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radioactivepeasant · 6 months

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Snippet Monday: Blackmail au

Prologue

"Travel the stars with us," the Precursors said, "Become one of us."

"I will," answered the hero, "but only on one condition: in the next iteration of this endless cycle, let the child have his family. Let at least one iteration of us know his father."

"If we allow this," said the Precursors, "you will still be the chosen hero. You will still hold the blood of Mar. And you will still suffer. But for one lifetime, we will let the child be a separate person, in exchange for your service in this lifetime."

"Then it is agreed," said the hero, and so the wheel of time turned, changing direction ever so slightly.

Part One: The Bargain

"Ah, there he is, right on schedule." Krew chortled as Jak slipped through the pub door.

There were a lot of people at the bar, all Wastelanders. Tess shot a worried look at Jak, but kept her bubbly smile up. What was going on? Were these friends of Sig’s? Jak wasn't so sure, considering the concerned grimace Sig was sporting.

One of the newcomers, a broad, scarred man with a drooping mustache, stood up and approached Jak slowly.

"Yep," he drawled, circling the boys, "Nipper's got the eyes alright. Same jaw, too." He snorted. "Heh. And here I was afraid you was losin' your touch, Krew. Right. We'll take 'im."

"Excuse me?" Daxter sputtered.

"Sorry, Jak," Krew said without the slightest shred of sincerity, "But after that little racing stunt of yours, I had to do some thinking. I've got a lot of money riding on Errol winning that final race. I'm afraid you've just become too expensive to keep on. No hard feelings, eh? It's just business."

"Ok?" Jak eyed the Wastelanders suspiciously. "And that's supposed to keep me from racing because...?"

"Because you're under new management, shall we say." Krew gestured to the Wastelanders. "Don't think of it as being fired! Think of it as a transfer of sorts."

Daxter bristled. "You wanna run that by us again, Morning Breath?"

Instead, the Wastelander turned on his heel to face Krew. "Now, you an' me, we both know you're askin' too high for the state the brat's in. Come on, Krew, you ain't fed him this whole time?"

Jak went rigid and began to back towards the door. Whatever was happening here, he wanted no part of it.

"Well it's wholly up to your lord's discretion, of course," Krew said, oily smooth, "If you can't come up with the price, I'm sure the Baron would pay fairly for a soldier of Jak's caliber."

One of the women at the bar laughed meanly. "Lordship said you might say that. He also said to remind you that you could do that, but only if you feel like being hanged with your own entrails."

Krew fanned himself and hovered higher. "Oh dear me, that sounds like bad blood, doesn't it? Speaking of blood, you'd best get moving if you don't want to lose the boy, there. I'm not responsible for losses incurred during pickup."

Jak had barely gotten out the door before they were on him. Someone grabbed Daxter from his shoulder, and four more sets of hands pinned his arms. These weren't weak, exhausted Havenites. Or indolent KG looking for excitement. These were real Wastelanders, and they were more than a match for Jak's struggles.

"Let him go, rot you!" he snarled, lunging for the woman holding Daxter by the scruff, "Get your hands off him!"

"Easy, boy, easy." The woman took a step back. "Just gonna hang onto Shorty here as insurance."

Sig finally managed to push his way through the crowd and elbowed one of Jak's captors in the gut, hard. As the man doubled over, Sig ripped his hands off of Jak's arm.

"Hands off my rookies," he hissed.

"Sig, w- what- what- what-" Jak could barely speak. Rage and terror constricted his lungs, his throat.

"I don't know, cherry." Sig shook his head grimly. "But I'm gonna find out. No matter what happens, you stick close to me and do as I do, okay? We're gonna get you through this."

Then he shoved the rest of the Wastelanders away, one by one. They parted like wheat before the wind, like they knew Sig. Like they respected him. The second he was free, Jak had to lock his knees to keep from collapsing. He couldn't even bring himself to be angry that they could all see him trembling uncontrollably. Krew had sold him to Wastelanders like a piece of meat. Like a slave. What would happen to the search for the Tomb if he was imprisoned in the Wastes? Would The Shadow force the Kid to search in Jak’s stead? He wouldn't put it past him, not after the jobs they'd sent him to do.

"Oh, I do so love facilitating family reunions!" Krew cooed, hovering at the door, "It warms the heart! And me wallet!"

He waggled his fingers meaningfully and cast greedy eyes over a trunk the one called Kleiver kicked in his direction.

"Mmyes, tell your liege lord I'll keep me eyes peeled for the smaller brat, eh?"

Jak's already chilled blood froze. He lunged for Krew, barely restrained by Sig at the last second.

"Don't touch him!" he growled, "Don't you even look at him! I'll kill you! I'll rotting kill you!"

Jak didn't see the Wastelanders around him, even Sig, suddenly exchange extremely grim looks. But when Sig tugged him away from the bar and towards the waterfront, he knew something had changed.

"Quiet, cherry," Sig hissed in his ear. "You're gonna have the Guard down on us with that yelling, and I don't want to give Krew any ideas about collecting that bounty on you!"

They had to physically drag him into the air train, and even that was only possible because the woman holding Daxter captive went in first. Cursing Sig every step, Jak struggled in vain to get his arms free.

"Jak!" Sig finally exploded, "Knock it off! We're trying to save your ass, here!"

"I didn't ask for your help!" Jak aimed a kick behind him and met hard metal armor. Memories of the prison clawed at the edge of his mind, threatening to pull him back into a dark place.

"You have no right-! You can't buy- you- you-"

His breathing became rapid and labored. "I am not a thing!" he screamed, finally breaking free.

Seconds too late. The hatch was closed.

"Jak! Jak, look at me, kiddo, look at me!" Sig desperately tried to grab his arm.

"I don't know what's going on, you gotta believe me. But I know Krew wasn't joking about selling you to Praxis, and I'd die before I let that bastard get his hands on you again."

Kleiver curled his lip at them from across the hold. "Paid a ransom that coulda fed a garrison for a month and this is the thanks we get? Ungrateful brat is what you are."

Sig glared at him. "Ransom?! You walked in there talking like an auction! Who's ransoming Jak?"

The woman holding Daxter spoke up.

"Lord Damas wants him. Krew contacted him, month back. Said he had proof the Heir of Mar abandoned a bastard son during the coup and if nobody came forward to "take responsibility", he'd out him to Praxis."

Jak went very, very still. Was Krew using him to defraud someone? Wouldn't be out of character. But where had he gotten the idea to pass Jak off as the lost Heir? And did that mean little Mar was abandoned? If he was, Jak knew he was going to make this so-called lord in question pay in blood for it.

"Jak? Bull. Damas lost the baby in the coup. He didn't abandon him." Sig snapped.

"Not on purpose, at least," Kleiver snorted. “If you was carryin’ a deposed king’s brat during a hostile takeover, would you say anything?”

Sig tightened his jaw and said nothing.

Jak didn't know how long they were in the air train. He'd blocked everything out. The Wastelanders, Sig, even Daxter. He'd shut them out and retreated into the one corner of his mind where the darkness couldn't touch him. The place where he remembered the sound of the ocean, and warm waves against his ankles. He was free there, and they couldn't take the sea from him.

When they landed, he didn't even notice until a blinding light pierced the hold-

Along with the smell of salt air.

Jak raised his head slowly, squinting through hanks of hair into the light. His free place in his mind didn't have the smell of the sea. Why did he smell salt?

"Everybody out!" Kleiver bellowed, "You know I don't like monks, so let's get this over with, yeah?"

Sig wrapped an arm around Jak’s shoulders and pulled him to his feet. "Stay close, kids," he murmured, and Jak finally realized that now he had Daxter. "I...don't know what to tell you. But I'm gonna do whatever I can to keep you two safe, okay?"

They exited onto a spire of rock, high above what seemed like an endless stretch of desert on one side, and a turbulent sea on the other. A Precursor temple sat before them, surrounded by ruined columns and porticos. Three zoomer-like vehicles were parked near a tiny natural waterfall, which seemed to mean something to the Wastelanders.

"Welp. He's already here." The woman in the yellow turban sighed. "Fingers crossed this checks out, everybody."

She waved to Sig.

"Get him inside before noon, huh? I don't feel like losing a layer of skin to the sun, thanks."

It was nearly ten degrees colder inside the temple. Personally, Daxter thought the weird people dressed in rubber emanated half the chill themselves. One of them approached Sig, holding a small plastic cup. Their eyes flicked to Jak, and they held out the cup with a bored expression.

"Blood or saliva sample," they said flatly.

Jak balked. "What?"

Sig cringed. "They want to...to see if you're who Krew claimed you are. Just...spit in the cup, kid. Their computer will tell them if Krew was lying or not."

When it became clear that the monk wasn’t going to leave until they got what they were after, Jak begrudgingly spat into the cup. The monk exited the chamber without a word.

Jak spent the next three hours huddled in an alcove, behind a small Precursor statue. He clung to Daxter like a lifeline, glaring out at the monks and Wastelanders watching him and whispering amongst themselves. Any time one came close, Jak scooted further back into the cloister. None of them looked small enough to get around the statue at the mouth. They couldn't reach him here.

One man in particular wouldn't stop staring at them. He had a commanding presence, despite not being the tallest or broadest in the room. Scars decorated his face and arms, and sharp points of Precursor metal had been set into his skull. Which was admittedly kind of badass. He watched Jak with dark, piercing eyes and a hard set to his jaw. When a monk placidly paced forward and presented the man with a datapad, murmuring, "Positive match, sire," the man's eyes darkened further.

He turned on his heel and disappeared through a door.

"Sire?"

"I'm going to pray," the man snapped in a rough voice. "Leave me. And get the boy some water, for the gods' sake!"

Was that the man who had supposedly paid a ransom for him? Jak retreated into the very back of the cloister and buried his face in Daxter's fur.

"Rot this day. Rot this whole rotting week," he mumbled.

"You said it, pal." Dax wrapped his arms around Jak’s neck and tried to comfort him. "Hey, they made me spit in a cup too! You think their computer will tell them I'm an ottsel? Or a human?"

Jak blinked. "Uh....how smart are computers supposed to be?"

"Like. As smart as Vin, I think?"

Jak shrugged, grateful for the distraction. "Maybe. That'll freak ‘em out, huh?"

"Oh yeah. So what do you think is up with Spikes? Wrong answers only."

"Wrong only? Uh...he just found out he's part marmoset."

"Or his application for a piercing refund was rejected."

"Or," Sig interrupted flatly, "he just found out he had a kid he didn't know was alive, and he's dealing with a lot of guilt right now."

Sig crouched at the mouth of the cloister and looked in at them. He seemed to have aged years since that morning. He held out a hand and sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders.

"Come on out kiddo. We're gonna get you some food, some-"

He closed his eye and shook his head. "Volcan's bones. I...I didn't know- none of us did...gods, he must've snatched you the same year we lost Mar-"

"Mar?" Jak interrupted sharply, "What do you know about Mar?"

When Sig looked up again, Jak was shaken to see tears in his eye.

"I ain't talking about the founder of Haven, cherry. And I don't think you are, either."

He sniffed and cleared his throat. "Little thing. So...he's so- he was so small. Sweetest little kid you ever met, always getting into trouble."

He cleared his throat again and tapped his cybernetic eye. "Only takes a moment. You look away one minute. Not even one full minute. And that's all it takes for the world to end. Praxis sympathizers ambushed us. Shot out my eye and took- took Mar. We never saw him again. But...but I think you did."

Jak's stomach churned, and the world began to spin. Mar? The little boy he'd been so desperate to protect? This had to be some kind of trick, they were trying to trick him into giving up Mar's location so they could get to the Tomb. Daxter's claws dug into his arm, pulling him back to earth before the dark eco could take over.

"I have to go back-" Jak croaked, "You have to take me back- take me back! Take me back! I can't leave him alone!"

Sig shifted and looked up at someone just out of sight.

"I was right," he said heavily, "He knows something."

Next >

#snippet Monday #jak and daxter #dadmas #king damas #jak and daxter au #fic prompts #writing prompts #blackmail au #dad sig #jak and mar are separate people au #angst with a happy ending #jnd Kleiver #Damas did NOT plan this well. He panicked and went for 'whatever gets the kid out of Haven the fastest'#Jak has no idea that Krew has been holding him for ransom for weeks

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silver-blooded-synthetics · 1 year

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What's your role in a tragic play?

ERROL

misunderstood villain

prepare for an onslaught of both the most dehumanizing and hateful takes, and flood of thirst comments. you are chronically misunderstood. whether or not you're actually evil is debatable. you may be acting out for revenge, to defend someone you love, or even just to protect yourself. you're a pretty jaded person. you don't trust or even really like most people. maybe you did at one point. but that part of you is gone, and you don't go a single day without grieving it. you think a lot about what your life could have been. you're stuck in the past. you're angry and maybe you don't even want to be, but this is the only way you can see to survive. you're open, but less in a trusting way and more like a wound. you don't like to let people see you, but the hurt spills out of you before you can stop it. you're impulsive, even as you try hard to plan and prepare. maybe someday your side of the story will finally be heard. until then, you can convince yourself that being hated is safer anyway.

ALMA

sweet supporting character

i wanna be your grandma so bad, please let me pinch your face and knit you a sweater. you're most likely the best friend of the protagonist, and there's some possible overlap between you and the narrator. you're sweet and try very hard to be selfless. you watch the ones you love descend into darkness, and make every effort to help them through it all. it's not enough. you keep trying to make it enough. you provide comic relief, a listening ear, a hug, advice── any method of support you can think of. your own personal tragedy isn't documented. sometimes you wish it was, even though you're the one who ensures it is not. you want people to care for you the way you do for others. but you refuse to ask for it, so you wait for others to read between the lines. they usually don't. at least you're the one who gets to survive the tragedy. no matter how many times you beg to trade places, it is always you at the end, sitting at someone else's grave.

Tagged by: @lebutterfly-effect

Tagging: anyone who wants to

#dash games #oc errol #oc alma #(not sure Alma's is accurate)

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comfortwriting · 3 years

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Best Friends Boyfriend - G.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Part 2 of my slow burn mini-series, inspired by and dedicated to @amourtentiaa , want to be tagged? Let me know!

This chapter is inspired by @amourtentiaa ‘s Owlery which you can learn more about and access here.

Please read Part 1 if you haven't already!

George Weasley x Fem Reader slow burn

Warnings: Fluff.

You couldn’t get last night out of your head, the sound of George whispering to you, asking you out on a date, how his beautiful face looked from the amber tones coming from the flames that radiated against his face, the way he smiled and licked his lips.

Laying in bed wide awake you kept your hand over your mouth, trying to hold in your giggles so you wouldn’t wake up Hermione and your other dorm mates. You couldn’t believe it - you’re going on a date, with George Weasley, the lad you fancy more than anyone else in the world - the only problem, your best friend, George’s younger brother, Ron, wouldn’t approve and would do anything to make sure the two of you keep well away from one another.

Throughout the whole day, you played it cool when passing George in the common room or the great hall, but as the day moved on and afternoon turned into evening, you couldn’t stop the giggles of excitement from bursting out, and the tint of pink to spread across your cheeks.

You had two hours until you were meeting George, for now, you sat in the common room with Ron and Hermione whilst Harry had Occlumency lessons with Snape.

“What d’you keep giggling about?” Ron hissed at you, scowling “you’ve been at it all day and you’re freaking me out.”

You covered your face with your hands, taking a deep breath and trying to calm the bubbling of nerves and excitement.

“N-Nothing” you replied, “I think I inhaled a dodgy potion somebody was brewing in the second-floor toilets this morning” you lied, avoiding eye contact with your best friend and his crush, Hermione.

Ron gave you an odd look and flashed his eyes to Hermione, who glared at him and shrugged her shoulders.

“Shouldn’t you go to Madame Pomfrey?” she suggested, knitting another hat for the house-elves.

Nodding your head, you got out of your chair and pursed your lips, “yeah, I think I will” you lied again “let me go and get freshened up, she might want to keep me in overnight if the giggles get worse” you smirked, chuckling.

Leaving your friends behind, you hurried off to your dorm room, getting your makeup, clothes, and shoes ready to put on after your shower, placing your clothes and makeup bag on the bed, kicking your shoes on the floor beside it.

“I dunno what's up with her” Ron huffed, slouching in his chair beside the fire.

Hermione continued knitting “Well, hopefully, Madame Pomfrey can sort her out, uncontrollable giggling can get you sent to St. Mungo’s.”

Ron focused on the bobble hat coming together in front of his eyes, trying to make sense of your behaviour today and if there was something else going on after his brother played Hero during the end of your horrific date.

Wearing your best black denim front pocket Pinafore dress over your red and yellow striped turtleneck and black tights, you stared at yourself in the mirror, blushing slightly at the thought of George seeing you dolled up just for him. You pouted, deep in thought and unsure of what hairstyle to do, checking the time you were cutting it close and decided your go-to natural, no school but not overdoing it hairstyle would be best.

“Tomorrow night, where we first met” you reminded yourself, hearing George’s voice inside your head.

Thinking long and hard about when you first met George and where, you closed your eyes and tried to focus, all of your memories whizzing around in your head - you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter knowing that not only did George remember, but he also perhaps thought of that day often.

Hurrying out of your dorm and back into the common room, Harry now sat down with Hermione and Ron, they all seemed taken aback by your appearance, furrowing their brows at you.

“You’re a bit dressed up for a doctors appointment, aren’t you?” Hermione called out.

Ron looked at you from head to toe “I think you’ve overdone it, mate-”

“See you later!” you giggled, a spring in your step as you left the common room, going through the portrait hole.

Ron, Harry, and Hermione exchanged looks, none of them knowing what to think or say was becoming a reoccurring factor today.

“Something isn’t right at all” Ron muttered “she’s up to something”

Reaching the owlery, you felt your excitement and nervousness compete against one another inside of you, being a few minutes early, you had enough time to admire all of the owls around you who were getting ready to go out hunting. Each of them unique and calming to look at, stroke, and hear a hoot. The memories finally coming back to you more clearly.

Your first week at Hogwarts went more awful than you ever imagined, you had got lost on the way to your classes, got into trouble by Percy - your houses Prefect and due to your terrible potion skills Snape put you in a weeks detention, your parents were so angry you received a Howler before anyone else in your class.

Feeling lost, alone, and in need of a friend, you wrote out your worries, concerns and everything else you were feelings into letters, addressed to your friends attending other Wizarding Schools (like Ilvermorny) across the globe.

Writing about your feelings, life, and anything, in general, helped to make you feel better, heard, and less isolated from the impressive and promising classmates that surrounded you.

Walking up the long and steep steps up to the Owlery, your heart melted at the Owls, some sleeping, some bobbing their heads around, and others appearing to be smiling at you. You felt connected to them in some sort of way, and spending time with them, knowing they didn’t care about your house, or how well you could make a feather float in the air made you feel more at ease.

You stared and smiled at your Tawny owl named Penny, you approached her trying to avoid the owl droppings and rat carcasses and stroked her softly, handing her your letters.

“Please deliver these safely,” you told her, tears filling your eyes again “it’s taken a lot for me to write them”

Penny accepted the letters and understood how important this job was, and how much it would mean to you, she pecked at your cheek, little kisses against your tears before she flapped her gorgeous wings and took flight.

Not wanting to go back down to your Herbology class to be a laughing stock, you stayed in the owlery, falling to the floor and weeping.

“If these reports get sent home mum will kill us” once voice spoke out, panting up the stairs.

“Well” replied a similar voice, also panting “we need to change our grades and get one of these owls to send it to her for us, it's why I made a fake replica”

Their voices and footsteps came closer.

“As long as Errol and Hermes aren’t delivering it, we’ll be fine Georgie.”

Two tall twins with ginger hair walked into the Owlery shiftily, both of them stopping in their tracks, noticing you crying on the floor, drowning in your robes.

George’s face and heart softened, he mouthed to his brother ‘leave it with me, I’ll get it sent, let me see why she’s upset’

Freddie nodded and slowly left the Owlery, trying not to make a sound.

You missed Penny with all your heart, after many trips she became so sick and injured no magic, and no amount of Hagrid’s care and love was enough to fix her wings and bring her back to life. When you lost Penny, you lost part of yourself, the Owlery wasn’t the same without her and each time you visited, you would break down into tears.

“You made it, early” George called out, pulling you out of your trip down memory lane, causing you to jump slightly.

You blinked back the forming tears and turned around to face him, the moonlight illuminating his best features through the open arches. “Didn’t want to be late” you replied, smiling nervously, stroking one of the owls.

“You were so little” George chuckled “but even after growing up so much somethings never change”

You cocked up an eyebrow and smirked, slightly confused “what do you mean?”

“The owls” he replied “your love for them, the time you make for them, it’s beautiful”

You could feel your cheeks heating up, your heart rate elevating.

“They’re special to me” you replied, trying not to come across as too shy.

George blushed too, his cheeks mirroring yours as he stepped closer, so close you could count each individual freckle across his face - something you had only done from across the halls or over the table.

“that’s why I asked for us to meet here,” George said softly, stepping closer to you, his breath brushing against you “because you’re special to me”

George took hold of your hand, tracing stars into your palm with his thumb, his eyes taking in your hair, your makeup, your outfit, and shoes. He started to lean in, as did you, your soft lips brushing against his cinnamon scented ones, but pulled away before you could share a kiss, smirking and winking at you.

“I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said nervously “I’ve been trying to give her to you for a while now, but whenever I’ve tried, Ron always got in the way”

You rolled your eyes “he always does” you replied “he doesn’t like the idea of us being together” you frowned, looking away from George and lowering your head, deciding to examine your shoes.

George lifted your chin up with his thumb, smiling at you “he doesn’t have to know” he paused “stay very quiet and follow me” he whispered, still holding your hand.

George walked you over to a very tired looking owl, her wings and body covering something small underneath her. George whispered to the owl “It’s George, she’s ready now”

The tired owl opened her googly eyes, staring at George, slowly and reluctantly moving away from her precious possession underneath her motherly wings. Underneath the wings lay a tiny owlet, its large magnificent eyes opening wide and staring at George, then you.

“I know he’ll never replace Penny” George murmured, wrapping his arm around you “but I want you to have a safe space here, I know how much of that Penny provided for you and I know how much of that changed when she passed away.”

You reached out your hand to stroke the baby, “it’s okay” you reassured his nervous mother “I’m not going to hurt him”

You ran the back of your finger down the Owlets fluffy back, its face showing signs of enjoyment and comfort, something rare amongst owls.

George watched in awe, the memories of you when you were much shorter and quieter flashing before him, now you were a beautiful young woman, with the same heart full of love and nurturing.

Tears of happiness streamed down your cheeks, you leaned into George and cuddled him, your face pressed against his chest, the scent of the burrow engulfing you.

“George - I - thank you, he’s beautiful”

George closed his eyes, taking in your face against his chest, his hand stroking your hair.

“I care for you, Y/N” he spoke out again “I know we were never that close, but you’re not just my little brother's friend to me”

You pulled yourself off his chest, looking up into his gorgeous eyes.

“like these owls, you’re unique, you’re special” he whispered.

“What’s your obsession with these owls anyway?” the tall boy asked, fiddling with his fake report.

“They’re unique” you replied quietly, walking around “they’re special”

George looked down into your eyes, his nose poking yours softly, leaning in, you didn’t pull back and allowed him to pull you gently into him.

His heart and yours racing, as your hand rested upon his chest, and his arm around your waist, your lips grazing against each other, turning into a deep, soft kiss.

Tag list: @amourtentiaa @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @slutforsebstan @alwaysnforeverfangirl @horrorxweasley @xmalfoyweasleyx @freddiemylovelg

#george weasley #george wealsey x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley fanfiction #George Weasley one shot #fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley fanfiction #fred weasley x you #fred weasley imagine #Weasley #ron weasley #ron weasly x reader #ron weasly imagine #ron weasley oneshot #ron weasley fanfic #harry potter #harry potter fanfiction #Harry Potter fanfic

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startanewdream · 3 years

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Hello Mah, forgive me for coming to ask for another prompt, I should control myself more, but I was reading ''Fate'' when I came across with this part ''Harry will have a full plate with these two someday.''

And I thought that if you haven't written that, make Harry complain to James and Sirius or Lily, idk, over the Easter break, about how Hermione and Ron are fighting, and maybe, just if you want, there is no Voldemort? Just to see the Golden Trio even more as teenagers, as they should be. But if you want to put Voldemort to give that dramatic touch of yours, it's okay too, you decide :)

and if you don't want to write that, that's fine too <3

Hiiiiii, Sweet! <3 please send all the asks you want!

I loved this prompt so much that I couldn’t help myself. So please enjoy this family moment between Harry, his parents and Sirius as they discuss Ron and Hermione’s possible relationship, during the Easter Break of Harry’s Fourth Year (for curiosity, in this universe, Ron and Hermione begin dating the start of their Fifth Year - and one day I’ll finish a WIP about Hinny’s relationship in the same universe)

Oh, and I know you asked for the Golden Trio being teenagers, but, really, here the parents are the teenagers:

Harry looks at the letter Errol just dropped with a heavy sigh that’s muffled by the sound of the owl hitting the glass of the window instead of flying away.

‘Rest before you go back’, Harry says, picking up the owl carefully (Errol blinks in thanks) and taking it downstairs to the tree next to the window of the kitchen that stands as their owlery. His parents are there, with Sirius, finishing their breakfast.

‘Morning’, Harry says distractedly, helping to place Errol in a branch of the tree, next to a sleepy Hedwig.

‘Come take your breakfast, Harry’, his mother tells him. Harry sits, yawning.

‘What’s with the grumpy face?’, Sirius asks, watching him.

‘I woke up early. Hermione sent me a letter - and when I was almost sleeping again, Errol came with another’.

‘Ron and Hermione are already writing?’, James asks, sounding amused. ‘You have been apart for only one day, you know that, right?’

Lily giggles. ‘Look who's talking. When was the last time you spent a day without seeing Sirius?’

‘Hey!’, James complains, while Harry laughs too. ‘If I don’t see him, how will I know he’s been feeding himself?’

‘Maybe trust he is a functional thirty-five-year-old guy?’

‘Hey, I am right here’, Sirius remembers.

‘Yeah, and you are eating breakfast in our place, which just proves my point’, James notes, smirking. He turns to Harry. ‘What’s so important they had to write to you on the first day of the holidays?’

‘Privacy, James?’, Lily says, amused. ‘Or you used to share the contents of your Marauder letters with your parents?’

‘I hope not’, Sirius intervenes. ‘He used to talk a lot about you in those letters - I am not sure Monty and Mia would have enjoyed reading so much about your very nice pair of -’

‘Hey, hey!’, Harry interrupts, raising his hands. ‘Kid alert here!’

‘Very nice pair of eyes, Harry’, Sirius says calmly. ‘Why did you think I would say?’

‘Oh, shut it’, Harry rolls his eyes, ignoring the redness around his neck. ‘And if you want to know, it’s no big deal, they don’t stop talking about it anyway. It’s about Viktor Bloody Krum’.

‘Harry -’

‘Sorry, Mom’, Harry adds hurriedly. ‘It’s just I don’t wanna ever hear about him again, really’.

‘What happened to all that admiration?’, James asks, surprised. ‘I thought you were cheering more for him than for the Hogwarts Champion’.

‘That was because…’, Harry’s voice drifts off, embarrassed. He doesn’t really want to talk about why Cedric Diggory annoys him lately. ‘Well, I don’t have any problem with Krum, but don’t say his name out loud near Ron and Hermione unless you want to hear them bickering’.

‘Oh, they are still in that phase?’, asks Lily, a grin playing on her lips that Harry doesn’t understand.

‘They always bicker, it’s just… I don’t get it, I thought Ron would actually be glad Hermione is friends with Krum, but all he does is complain’.

‘They are friends? Krum and Hermione’, his father asks, raising his eyebrows. Harry supposes that’s really an unlikely pair.

‘Well, friends, I don’t know - wait, I didn’t tell you? Hermione went with Krum to the Yule Ball’.

James and Sirius make a chorus of ‘ohhhh’, raising their eyebrows at the same time, and pull their chairs so they get closer to Harry.

‘You didn’t tell us!’, his father complains.

‘I didn’t think it was important’.

‘You really need to sort out your priorities, Harry’, Sirius says, somber. ‘That’s big news’.

‘Hermione and Krum?’, Harry asks doubtfully, then he grins. ‘Oh, wait until you hear everything then’.

And he tells them how Ron got upset with Hermione’s choice of date, accusing her of fraternizing with the enemy.

‘Wow’.

‘Nice phrasing’, Sirius agrees.

‘I should have used it when I found you snogging Anthony Travers’.

‘He was hot’.

‘He was a Slytherin!’

Lily rolls her eyes. ‘Grow up’, she mumbles, but they don’t seem to hear.

‘And at the end of the Yule Ball’, Harry adds, expecting for their reactions, ‘she told Ron that next time there was a ball, he should ask her before someone else does, and not as a last resort!’.

Sirius and James don’t disappoint him. ‘OOOOOOH’.

‘One point to Hermione!’

‘She definitely hit a nerve there’.

‘And then what happened?’, Sirius asks curiously. ‘The next day? What did they do?’

Harry shrugs. ‘Nothing, actually, they just pretended nothing happened’.

‘I will need to talk to Ron’, James says gravely; he looks at Lily. ‘If you told me something like that, I would be asking you out the very next minute’.

She gives him a loopsided grin that Harry is sure she learned with his father. ‘As if you would ever not ask me for any ball first’.

James grins, raising to kneel in front of her. ‘My dearest Lily, would you give me the pleasure of your company for all balls for the rest of your life?’

‘Oh, get a room you two’, Sirius says, rolling his eyes. ‘I am waiting to hear the rest of the story. Come on, Harry’.

But Harry is looking wistfully at his parents. ‘It must be so nice to ask someone out when you know she is going to accept it’.

James laughs. ‘Well, now it seems easy, but when I asked your mom, trust me, I was nothing but a nerve-wracking mess’.

‘He fainted’, Lily agrees, looking fondly at her husband.

‘It was not a faint! I just closed my eyes for a while -’

‘Harry’, Sirius interrupts out loud. ‘So if everything was ok, why are you receiving letters now?’

‘Oh’, Harry grins. ‘It’s because of the Second Task. The champions had to rescue the things they would miss the most - and for Krum, that was Hermione’.

‘That is so -’

‘Unexpected?’, Lily suggests. ‘Unbelievable exaggerated for someone you just went to a ball together?’

‘Romantic’, Sirius finishes, frowning at her. ‘What did James see in you, Evans?’

‘Potter’, she notes, smirking. ‘And from what you said, he was very fond of my pair of… eyes’.

‘Oh, stop you two’, James says, waving his hand as if they are two misbehaved kids. He glances at Harry. ‘I take Ron didn’t like it very much’.

‘No, he hated it. I mean, he was very worried with Hermione while she was underwater, though I told him Dumbledore wouldn’t really anything happen with any of the hostages… and then when she was safe, he got angry with her!’

‘Of course he did’, James agrees, eyes sparkling with laugh. Harry doesn’t see much humour in this story.

‘Well, now they keep arguing about Krum, about house-elves, about whoever Ron is talking to, about everything, and I am in the middle of it. Letters and all now’.

James exchanges a look with Lily. ‘We were never like that’.

‘No, we went from arguing to bantering and then snogging’.

‘It wasn’t arguing, I was just an arse and you didn’t take it quietly’, James says unabashed. ‘But I meant we never took pleasure in arguing just for the sake of it’.

‘I wish you had’, Sirius notes. ‘At least then I could shut you up with a spell’.

‘We were not that bad’, James says fairly. Sirius gives one of his barking laughs.

‘You two keep looking at each other when you thought the other wasn’t looking, both convinced the other didn’t like you back, while you both sighed all over the place, finding some stupid excuses to be near each other - I mean, come on, how many meetings could you have in our final year?’

‘I was Head Boy!’, James remembers.

‘See? The worst excuse ever to get near a girl’.

Harry blinks. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘Your parents’, Sirius says joyfully. ‘And comparing them with Ron and Hermione’.

‘What they have to do in common?’

‘Oh, Harry’, Sirius looks at him almost pityingly. ‘You see, when a boy likes a girl - or another boy, or when a girl likes a boy or a girl -’

‘You are just complicating everything, Padfoot’, Lily tells him brightly. ‘What he means is that there is something going on between Ron and Hermione’.

‘Yeah’, Harry agrees, his brows furrowed. ‘They are fighting’.

The other three laugh. Harry crosses his arms, annoyed.

‘But why are they fighting, Harry?’, his mother asks gently.

‘Because they are two stubborn people?’

‘But why now, why about Krum?’ When Harry shrugs, without answering, Lily shakes her head. ‘Oh, dear, you are as oblivious as your father’.

‘Hey!’

Lily places a soft kiss on James’ face before turning to Harry.

‘Ron is jealous of Hermione’, she explains patiently. ‘And Hermione wished Ron had asked her to the ball before. You see now?’

‘So Ron and Hermione… will become Ron and Hermione?’

‘I don’t know that’, Lily says. ‘Not every crush turns into something’.

‘Ours did’, James whispers, smugly.

‘And not every school romance lasts after school either’.

‘Seventeen years together’, James sings. Lily throws him a fond look.

‘And counting’, she agrees, offering her hand for him to take it.

Sirius rolls his eyes.

‘You see what I had to endure with these two? That will be you with Ron and Hermione’.

‘They like each other?’, Harry repeats, thinking, but now that they’ve said it, he supposes he couldn’t really be surprised.

All that bickering had to mean something - and beyond that, they were always close, always gravitating around each other. He supposes he should be glad they would move on that bickering phase, but if they did...

‘But - what if they get together? I will be a third wheel! Worse, what if they get together and then split up? We won’t be friends -’

‘You are overworrying, son’, James assures him. ‘You won’t stop being their friends no matter what happens’.

‘Yeah’, Lily mumbles. ‘Look at Sirius’.

‘What about me?’

‘James dating me and marrying me didn’t affect the relationship between Prongs and Padfoot’, she notes, ignoring Sirius’ wink at her. ‘So you will be fine with them’.

Sirius nods gravely. ‘There is only one rule you need to follow when your best friends are dating, Harry. Remember that and your life will be easier’.

‘What is that?’

Sirius grins. ‘Always knock on their doors before you enter any room they are in or else you will see them in positions you didn’t even know it was possible’.

‘Sirius!’

#t: fanfiction #Jily Lives #romione #Jily #Sirius and James enjoy a good gossip #Everyone supports Romione because #Everyone is happy #I like to write happy things once in a while #no angst!

101 notes · View notes

wicked-hg · 3 years

Text

Love, The Weasleys || g.w.

Day 12 of @jamilelucato and @whack-ed Very Harry Potter Christmas.

George Weasley x muggleborn!reader

Prompt: Writing Christmas cards

Summary: George never knew about Christmas cards until you.

A/N: This ended up being more about Christmas cards in general than writing them. Hope you all enjoy! I’m thinking about maybe writing more.

WC: 2.3k

Y/H/C- your hair color ; Y/L/N- your last name ; Y/H- your house (except Gryffindor. Sorry. I didn’t realize my mistake when writing this. You’ll understand at the end. Forgive me.)

First year George wasn’t expecting anything from you during Christmas break. You were a muggle-born he had met one day running away from Filch after getting separated from Fred. You two became friends as you became a silent partner and helped with their escape plans. George didn’t realize you had an owl.

George opened the envelope and stared at the strange letter that had a picture on the front with reindeer pulling a fat man in red robes in a red cart. The front read “May all your wishes be granted”. George curiously opened the strange letter. A still photo of your family stared up at him. He moved it to the side. Printed inside was “Happy Christmas with lots of joy!” Signed underneath was The Y/L/N Family. On the opposite side was a note from you.

George,

I hope you have a Happy Christmas with your family! I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything in time. I promise to have something for you on the train. Miss you lots dear friend!

Sincerely,

Y/N

“Mum, Dad,” George asked. “Do you know what this strange letter is? My muggle-born friend sent it to me.”

“That’s a Christmas card,” Charlie piped up. “We learned about muggle Christmas traditions before break. Muggles send cards out to family and friends during the holidays. Sometimes they send pictures and longer notes to catch up with people. It’s just a way to celebrate the holidays. Professor Quirrell didn’t really understand them.”

George nodded and stared at the card. He looked over at the picture of your family. You were in the middle with a giant grin and a red sweater. Peeping up from the bottom of the photo, he swore it was the beginning of a gold G. “I like these strange letters. Christmas cards you say, Charlie?”

———————

George stared out of the window in hope. Fred watched his twin while he sat on his bed and worked on pranks for their shop. “She doesn’t even know we’re here, Georgie. How can you expect Y/N to send you a Christmas card when she doesn’t know where you’re staying?”

“She will!” George argued. “She always does.”

“You didn’t tell her, did you George? It doesn’t matter that she is finally your girlfriend after you both finally got it through your thick heads.”

George shook his head. “I didn’t tell her. She knows we are not at the Burrow. She thinks we’re staying with Aunt Muriel. I told her to send the letter to the Burrow. Errol is there waiting for the trade off. Told her it was too far for Sova to fly the whole way.”

Fred shook his head. “You’re letting Errol deliver your happiness? Oh Georgie. You’re doomed.”

George stuck his tongue out at his twin before turning back to the window. Soon, he thought, Errol should be here soon. As if by magic, the shadow of Errol appeared in the distance. George scrambled to grab the owl treats he had waiting on the window sill.

“Cmon, you stupid old owl. Come get the treat and give me that letter,” George almost shouted. Fred shushed him. The last thing either of them needed was for someone to wake up and discover what they are both up to. “Incoming, Freddie! He’s coming in hot!”

Fred quickly stumbled out of bed and grabbed a pillow as George made the window wider and grabbed another pillow to go under Fred’s. Errol blasted through the window and hit the pillow at Fred’s chest before falling onto the pillow George held underneath. George laid the treats next to the owl and snatched the letter. This year glittery snowflakes adorned the front with “May your life be full of flurries of happiness”. The inside read similar like every year with something about having a happy Christmas, the family signature, and the family picture. Just like always too, there was a note from Y/N.

Darling George,

Give my love to your family. I do hope your father is okay and recovering well. I also hope that the hag of an aunt you call Muriel is treating you all well too. It was a bummer to end term without you, but alas I know I’ll be doing it once more. One of us has to have a diploma, even if I will end up working with you. Don’t throw a fit, my darling George. I know I can do more with my life, but this is what I want. I already made that clear to my parents. They’ve accepted my choice. Back to end of term. It was okay. It would have been better if Umbitch wasn’t there. She did leave me alone though...unwillingly. Somehow she kept getting fed your nosebleed nougats and lost quite a bit of blood. Hmmmm. Who knows how that happened. I certainly don’t, and neither do Peeves or that elf Dobby your brother knows. Mum and Dad and those idiot brothers of mine say hello. They’re all glad I finally officially have you as mine. Apparently they’ve always known too. Perhaps I should tell them the truth about our Yule Ball last Christmas and we went as much much more than best friends. I’ll give you your present on the train back. Take care, darling. Do enjoy your break. Miss you tons, but I love you more.

Love always,

Y/N

George grinned at the card. “She’s brilliant, Freddie. Absolutely brilliant.”

——————

George was nervous as he handed Fred the card. It was still early in the morning. The Hogwarts express had gotten back the day before, which meant the holiday rush will be hitting soon. Y/N was managing the store with Verity while George and Fred were going over some inventory in the back. Fred stared at the envelope before gingerly opening it. He smiled at the card with a fireplace wishing him a warm and festive holiday. “Well finally, Georgie boy,” Fred grinned. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to tell the Y/L/N to include me in their list of Christmas card receivers.”

George didn’t say a word and just motioned for his brother to open it. Fred opened the card. Staring back at him was a muggle photo of Y/N and George. Both were grinning in the midst of pine trees. George’s arms were wrapped around Y/N and she was leaning into his chest. Fred moved the picture to be greeted with the typical Y/L/N family picture, but he very quickly noticed his twin was a part of the family photo. Moving the photos he saw the card was signed by The Weasleys, but it was in Y/N’s handwriting. On the left side of the card, Fred was greeted with the familiar sight of George’s writing.

Forge,

Y/N told me I didn’t have to write you a note updating you on my life because we live and work together and see each other every day. But where is the fun in that? I want you to have a true Christmas card experience! We’ve been through so much this year, Freddie. I’m just glad I got to experience it with you along the way. As you can see, I’m a part of the Y/L/N Christmas cards now. Y/N is my everything. I have to thank you. Thank you for giving me the pushes to make her mine. It’s no lie written in the card, Forge. She’s gonna be a Weasley. Will you be my side as I celebrate my new life? There’s no one else I’d want. Let’s celebrate Christmas with a bang.

Gred

Fred immediately looked up. “You serious, Gred?”

“Absolutely, Forge. There’s no one else for me, and with the war and her being a muggle-born. It’s just going to be a quick muggle ceremony. Once the war is over, we’ll do the real thing.”

“Why muggle?”

“She’s read about wizard tradition. She wants to experience that and have her family see it too. Besides, if we did a quick magic ceremony, her family wouldn’t be allowed to come. With a muggle ceremony too, if anything happens she can easily blend right in and be taken care of.”

“You sure about this, George? I’m not talking you out of it. I know she’s perfect for you, but I want you to be happy.”

George smiled and hugged his brother. “I am, Fred. I have everything I want right now. Her. You. The store. I just want to make her as permanent in my life as you are.”

Fred chuckled. “Well I am amazing. It’s only a given. But George, have you told mum and dad yet?”

“They’re getting a Christmas card from Y/N and I. All the family is. They also got one specifically from her family.”

“I meant do mum and dad know you and Y/N are getting married?” George stayed quiet. “Oh Gred. What have you gotten yourself into?

————————

George found you at the kitchen table writing a list. “Making a list and checking it twice, darling?” George joked.

You smiled and kissed him. It was good to hear those little quips from him. When the war hit hard and Fred was killed, you worried he wouldn’t laugh again or joke. You feared the store would stay closed and layers of dust would settle over the products. It took George a few months, but they got the store up and going again. You knew he wouldn’t be the same without Fred, but it was good to see him somewhat the same again. “It’s what he’d want, Y/N,” he told you when working on cleaning up the store. “He wouldn’t want me to give up everything we’d ever hope for.”

“Very funny, George darling. I’m making a list of who we need to send Christmas cards too. My mum called and said the prints were in. Which reminds me, you need to make a list of which friends and extended relatives you want cards to go to and get their addresses.”

“We’re still doing this?”

You gave him a funny look. “Of course, darling. Why else would we have taken pictures with my family and gone to Selfridges to buy cards and some decorations?”

“Well I knew your family would still send cards out and that’s why they needed us there,” he answered. “They haven’t gone through a war.”

“But isn’t that why we should do this?” You asked. “So many people have gone through pain and sorrow this year. Let’s give them something to smile about, George darling.”

George gave another weak smile. “Fred loved the cards,” he whispered. “He always got excited when I got them and started bugging me 3rd year that he wanted to be in on it. He was so excited when I gave him his first card. I don’t know what I’ll do this year.”

You brought George closer to you. “You can still write him a Christmas card, George. The box is down stairs that you guys started your business out of. You can keep all the Christmas cards you write to him in there. It might sound weird, but I think it’ll be good for you. Include the pictures too. What do you think, darling?”

George kissed your cheek. “You’re an angel. You know that? You don’t think it’s weird?”

You shook your head. “I wouldn’t have suggested it if I thought it was. I think it’ll be good for you, George. It’ll be therapeutic in a way.” You pushed a card and envelope towards George. “This can be his. Why don’t you go grab your coat. We can go pick up the photos and then grab some lunch at the fish and chip shop down the road.”

“Maybe on the way back we can stop at that bakery by Flourish and Blotts,” he suggested. “I saw you looking at those cauldron cakes and strawberry trifles the other day.”

You grinned and kissed him. “Of course, Georgie darling.”

———————

“Y/N!” George shouted. “Where is the box? I have Fred’s card done.”

“Check the office, darling!” You answered. “I put it there so we didn’t lose it. I’m off to the station now. I’ll be back in a half hour.”

George entered his office and found the orange box he stored Fred’s Christmas cards in. A mouse wearing Christmas tree sunglasses and a Santa hat. He stuck the picture inside the card before putting it in the box. No longer was the photo of Y/N’s family included when sending out cards. Instead the photo was of George and Y/N wearing their Weasley sweaters. In front of them were two smaller red heads and a light haired Y/H/C also wearing their Weasley sweaters.

George smiled as he put the box back on the book shelf. “Until next Christmas, Forge.”

———————

Dear Forge,

It’s been a crazy year. The last of this Weasley clan has joined Hogwarts. It’ll be interesting to see if the twins follow in our footsteps. Anya is in Gryffindor and Fred is in Y/H. Part of me is glad Fred isn’t in Gryffindor. It would’ve been cool, but this way I hope he will be able to forge his own path. Forge. Hah! Get it? Clara is studying for her OWLS this year. I found some of our old charms, defense, herbology, transfiguration, and potions notes. I let her into our little secret that we are quite smart but just never turned our assignments in. She was thankful. She’s definitely my daughter. She acts like me so much, but she’s definitely loud like you with that Gryffindor bravery. I miss you, brother. Y/N was right though; this has definitely helped me. Hopefully you get these wherever you are. Happy Christmas, Freddie!

Love, Gred and his Weasleys

#averyharrypotterchristmas #a very Harry Potter Christmas #george weasley #george weasley x reader #george wealsey imagine #george weasley oneshot #george weasley x y/n #george weasley reader insert #hp imagine #hp one shot #muggleborn!reader #George weasley x muggleborn! reader #harry potter imagine #harry potter oneshot #my own work

265 notes · View notes

pappydaddy · 3 years

Text

ivy (f.w.)

A/N: Here here the first piece for the Folklore/Evermore collection - ivy. This ended up being 13 pages (whoops!). It is clear in the piece that Y/N’s family, the Malfoy’s, and the Weasley’s are in no way related so, I just wanted to make sure everyone knew that! Anyway, enjoy lovelies💛!

Paring: Fred Weasley x Fem!Reader/Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Show/Movie: Harry Potter

Not Requested

No Voldemort AU, but there is blood-supremacy but it’s not like in your face, it’s just because of the arranged engagement.

Warnings: Lucius being a jerk, being trapped in a loveless engagement, arranged marriage, cheating, breaking off an engagement. Lucius kills a owl, but it’s briefly mentioned.

masterlist | taglist | wips | navigation - my gif -

She never saw this coming. This was not supposed to happen - any of it. She wasn’t supposed to be forced into an arranged marriage, she wasn’t supposed to be with Draco, and (most importantly) she wasn’t supposed to fall in love with Fred Weasley while she was engaged to Draco Malfoy. She could guess that she deserved this. Her life was relatively easy until now. Even when she was sat down with her parents, Draco and his parents a year following their departure from Hogwarts and told she was to marry Draco since she was part of one of the only pureblood families not related to the Malfoys at all, her life was rather uncomplicated. It wasn’t until she bumped into Fred Weasley (another pureblood her family was oddly not related to), an old friend of hers from Hogwarts, one day in Diagon Alley when she was out shopping for a new owl since her and Draco’s had died from Lucius’ spurt of anger a few weeks prior.

The second her face met the broad chest of Fred, she felt heat crawling along just under her skin, tingling through her entire body in seconds. Looking up at him, his face glowed incandescently. Soon, she found her other thoughts cloudy in comparison to the thoughts of him. Despite everything within her telling her that those tingles and clouded thoughts meant no good, she agreed to be accompanied by him to help her choose a new owl. “You know, Errol finally kicked the bucket, it was quite sad,” Fred told her as they stepped into the cluttered shop. “Miss the poor bugger.” He muttered, letting the door softly close behind him as he followed her farther into the shop.

“I’m sorry, I know how much Errol meant to you guys,” Y/N sympathized. For only living with Draco for six months, she grew oddly attached to their owl, feeling like she was the only one she could confess her true feelings about the marriage to. When Lucius had hit the bird with the curse, she felt like her heart had been ripped out of her chest, but she didn’t dare react. When he and Narcissa had left a few hours after, she had immediately run up the stairs, locking herself in her and Draco’s shared bedroom for the rest of the night. “It sucks when they go.”

Fred hummed in agreement, looking around at the multitude of caged owls around them, all clicking their beaks and cocking their heads at them as they passed. “That it does, Y/N/N. That it does,” He spoke, reaching his finger out to stick a bent knuckle between the golden bars of one of the cages. The snowy owl lunged at it, snapping its jagged beak at his finger in an attempt to bite it. “Hey!” He exclaimed, jerking his hand back away from the cage before he could get caught by the beak.

Y/N turned to look at him, snickering when she saw him clutching his hand to his chest, leaning away from the cage as he eyed the bird. “Teach you not to put your finger in a random owl’s cage, Fred.” She chastised, turning back to inspect the owl in front of her. She heard the sound of Fred’s feet shuffling along the old floorboards towards her.

“She looked friendly enough,” He defended, coming to stand beside her, bending down to also inspect the owl she was considering. She tried to ignore the rush of dizziness she felt from him being so close to her, the heat of him waving across the small space to hit her. “Who do we have here?” He asked, not noticing her switching to breathe through her mouth in an attempt to block his intoxicating smell of gunpowder and firewood from wafting into her nostrils. She could feel his gaze settling onto the side of her face, but she tried her best to also ignore that. She reached her hand out, tapping the little information tag attached to the table below where the cage sat.

“She doesn’t have a name yet, but she’s a decently young Barn owl-”

“Just like your owl from Hogwarts! Whatever happened to her anyway?” Fred inquired. Y/N swallowed, her hand fiddling with the sparkling engagement ring that sat on her left ring finger. She didn’t want to tell him the truth, but she had nothing else to tell him. She wasn’t prepared to spend the day with Fred, let alone having him ask her questions like that.

“I had to get rid of her when I moved in with Draco, Lucius’ orders. I couldn’t have any possessions of my own that should be shared between a couple. So no owl, no dishes, nothing like that.” She muttered, casting a look down at her ring, watching as it caught the sunbeams pouring through the window of the shop. It was an extravagant ring. Tiny diamonds surrounded the large oval diamond and dotted all the way along the silver band. It took up so much room on her finger that it was a bit odd-looking. She thought it was an absolutely gorgeous ring, but she much preferred simpler rings compared to gigantic ones that nearly blind you in the morning sun.

“That’s insane, your parents couldn’t have kept your things if he requires you to follow that ridiculous, archaic rule,” Fred asked, bewildered. “Does that mean you had to get rid of your favourite teacup? The floral one that your grandmother gave you?”

“Unfortunately so.”

“Where did it go?” Fred blurted the question out immediately, a look of determination on his face. Y/N finally glanced at him again, her eyes catching on his jawline before stopping at the freckles that littered his face. His red hair burned brighter and his skin glowed in the golden rays, looking like one of the paintings you would find hanging in the Hogwarts corridors.

“I sold it to an antique store here on Diagon Alley, don’t know much more than that,” She clicked her tongue, reaching out to grab the ring on top of the owl’s cage. “I think I’ll take this lovely lady, she looks so calm,” She cooed, noticing how the owl barely shifted when she picked the cage up. “Wanna stick your finger in her cage?” She directed the last question to Fred, looking up at the older wizard with teasing eyes.

“Yeah, no thanks, I learned that lesson already today.” He scoffed, following her towards the cash in the middle of the store. Y/N let out a boisterous laugh, gaining the attention of the lady tending the cash. The older lady sat up straighter on her stool, tucking her copy of The Daily Prophet off to the side.

“Good morning, Mr. Weasley,” She greeted him kindly, reaching under the counter to grab a tin, setting it onto the counter and extending it towards the pair. “Sweet?”

“Don’t mind if I do Mrs. Echers,” Fred lit up, plucking one of the individually wrapped sweets from the tin, unravelling it and stuffing it into his mouth quickly. “Thank you.” He spoke through a muffled mouth, chewing on the taffy-like candy. The lady, Mrs. Echers, slid the tin towards Y/N, looking up at her with expectant eyes.

“How about you dear?”

“If you insist. Thank you.” She smiled, gently taking one between her pointer finger and thumb, tucking it into the pocket of her jacket before placing the cage on the counter. Mrs. Echers put the tin back under the counter, looking between Fred and Y/N.

“You didn’t tell me you were engaged-” She paused, squinting her eyes at Fred to figure out which twin he was. Before Y/N could correct her, the lady sighed. “I’m sorry dear, I still can’t tell you two apart.” She shook her head, defeated.

“Don’t worry Mrs. Echers, I’m Fred,” Fred waved her off, looking down at Y/N with a goofy smile. “But I’m not engaged, she’s an old friend I bumped into.” He said the words with an almost disappointed voice that Y/N was sure she was imagining. Why would Fred be disappointed that she wasn’t engaged to him? He was Fred Weasley. The boy two years older than her, and her friend’s older brother. There was no way that Fred Weasley was disappointed about her getting married to someone else.

“Oh, really,” Mrs. Echers gasped, looking between them again as if she didn’t believe it. “I’m sorry dears. You guys just meshed so well together, I had just assumed,” She apologized, laying a gentle, frail hand on her chest, her shoulders drooping. “Now that I’ve embarrassed myself enough, will this girl be it today or do you need some food or anything?”

“No thank you, she’ll be all. We’ve still got plenty of supplies leftover from our last owl to do us for a bit,” Y/N told her, digging through her bag for the money Draco had given her. Before Mrs. Echers could tell her the total, she was already placing the exact amount on the table, Draco having given her just enough for any owl. “My Fiancé’s father is quite strict about how much money he should give me,” She admitted bashfully as Fred and Mrs. Echers gave her odd looks. “Very traditional.”

“Of course,” Mrs. Echers cleared her throat, sharing a look with Fred as Y/N looked down to zip her bag back up. The older lady placed the galleons into the tray before taking a piece of paper from the stack, slamming a stamp upon it. “Here is your receipt dear,” She smiled kindly at Y/N, handing her the slip. “Have a great day you two.” She waved to them as Y/N went to take the cage off the counter.

“Let me take her,” Fred told her, his hand beating her to grip the loop again, picking the cage off the counter himself. Y/N looked up at him, startled before she nodded. “See you, Mrs. Echers.” He nodded at the lady. Y/N smiled, waving in parting as she walked towards the door. The pair stepped out in the cold, making Y/N regret not wearing her travelling cloak this time round. She shivered slightly, the winter chill running right through her.

“Well, I guess I best be heading home, Draco will be wondering where I’ve gone to or if I’m buying the whole shop!” She joked, trying to take the cage from Fred, but he moved it out of the way, his brows furrowed in displeasure.

“How can you buy the whole shop if he limits how much money you can carry on you per trip?” He questioned.

Y/N sighed, dropping her extended arm. “It’s not Draco as much as it’s his father, he thinks that I shouldn’t be able to spend Draco’s money since I didn’t make it and we’re not married yet.” She explained, starting to walk along the snow-covered cobblestones. Fred scoffed, shaking his head.

“Why don’t you just work?”

“Because Lucius says that I shouldn’t work, that Draco should be the one controlling the money and he can’t control the money if I make my own,” She disclosed, her eyes trained on the path in front of her. “But Draco doesn’t agree with him, he always tells me that after Lucius has scolded me for doing something wrong.” She was quick to defend her Fiancé.

“If he didn’t agree then he should stand up for you,” Fred pointed out, walking slowly beside her, ignoring the path in front of him - instead, he was watching her. The conversation came to a natural end with that, bathing them both in a comfortable silence as they thought. Y/N tried to not think about how easy it was to be with Fred, how comfortable and relaxed she was with him compared to Draco, the same school-girl feelings kicking up from where they had settled at the bottom of her heart like dust. “Would you join me at The Leaky Cauldron for a drink or two?” He suddenly asked, looking back at her.

She looked over at him, shocked to see him already looking at her. “I really should be getting back, besides, I don’t have any more money on me.”

“Nonsense, you are your own person and I can pay for your drinks!”

“Then wouldn’t that make this a date?”

“That so bad?” Fred wondered flirtatiously. Y/N laughed shaking her head gently, a large smile covering her face as she tilted her head to the ground before looking back up at him, the smile still on her face, her eyes twinkling.

“It would be since I am engaged to get married, I can’t really be going on dates with another bloke.” She pointed out. Fred nodded, looking away to look ahead, his lips pressing together tightly as he nodded.

“Well, if you won’t let me treat you to a few drinks on me, would you like to come to my apartment for a free drink? And if you want, you can send me some knuts for the teabag or whatever you drink if that makes you feel better.” He offered, earning another laugh from her.

“Sure, why not,” She shrugged. “But you better expect to see this owl tomorrow morning.” She teased, pointing to the owl in the cage he still held. She felt excitement ignite within her as they saw the purple painted outside of the Twin’s shop appear. She had never been in the shop since it opened, she was excited to see how much it had changed in its success.

____

Y/N sat on the couch of the grand library, a book open on her lap, but she wasn’t paying any attention to the words on the pages. Instead, her mind was on the same fiery locks she gazed upon a week ago. Even in the big, silent house, her head was filled with the sound of his voice, easing the heaviness of her heart. Before she bumped into him, she was perfectly fine playing the doting wife to Draco, to accept her fate willingly, but now she couldn’t shake the pain she felt when the thought of the life that awaited her when she got married. Suddenly, being alone in this mansion felt like she was trapped up in a tower, far away from anyone who wasn’t her family or her Fiancé and his family.

Sighing, she blinked at the page, trying to unblur the words and take her mind off the man she most certainly shouldn’t be thinking about like this. For the week following their little encounter, she couldn’t get him out of her mind, every little thought was consumed either by the feeling he ignited within her or him himself. She was sure that their meeting was an off thing, never to happen again, especially since he hadn’t sent her another letter since she mailed him a few knuts, having had to lie to Draco and tell him that she had accidentally broken something when she was buying the owl and had to replace it. Even though Lucius had berated her for a good ten minutes afterward as Draco stood back silently, she found herself willing to tell a lie again if that meant that she could just contact Fred in someway.

Two clinks against the glass of one of the large windows of the library startled her. She looked towards the window, seeing a Tawny Owl perched just outside, pecking the window. Carina, her and Draco’s owl, chirped happily, shifting on her perch, her wings flapping as she waited for Y/N to let the other owl in. “You know this owl, Carina,” Y/N asked, gently closing the book and setting it on the empty cushion beside her, rising from the deep green velvet couch. Walking through the dust particles that danced in the heat of the morning sunlight, she unlocked the window, opening only half of it enough to let the light brown owl into the house. “Come on in,” She spoke gently, watching as the owl spread its wings and glided into the room, going right towards Carina and perching itself right by her. “Is this your friend?” She directed the question towards Carina, earning a small, happy chirp in return. Giggling, Y/N grabbed treats out of the jar, leaving the window open, allowing the cold winter wind to gush into the room.

Stroking the mysterious owl’s feathers, she extended her flat hand towards it. Clicking happily, the owl took the offered treat gently. Extending her hand towards Carina, the treat was swiped from her hand. Carefully, she took the rolled up piece of parchment from the owl’s leg, unravelling it. Walking back to the couch, her eyes skimmed over the messy but neat scrawl, the sight of it making her heart jolt. Slowly, she sunk down onto the couch, but still remained poised in case Lucius decided to swing by to ‘make sure she was acting appropriately’ while Draco was at work.

Dearest Y/N/N,

Fred’s letter started.

You must be wondering why I still haven’t sent a reply to your letter in the past six days. I was unable to continue correspondence due to the booming business the holidays are bringing to the shop, but I also had my own mission I needed to complete before I could send any sort of letter to you.

She smiled down at the little paragraph before her eyes flowed to the next one.

I am very sorry that I couldn’t have written a more formal letter and put it in an envelope, but sadly, with how busy the shop has been, I could only manage to scribble this down on a spare piece of parchment. It also didn’t help that it was George’s turn to grab stationary this month and he forgot. But despite the lack of supplies and time, I needed to write to you.

Now, to get to the point of this letter. I am requesting your presence at either my apartment or The Leaky Cauldron. I give you the choice because I know how you feel about the idea of me paying for your drinks. Bring sickles if you need, but I beg you to agree to meet me at eleven at your choice of location.

Much love,

Fred Weasley

She couldn’t help but smile down at the parchment, her body weightless as if she was floating around the sky among the clouds. The pain and loneliness of the cold mansion vanishing. Warmth wrapped around her like a warm blanket. “He wants to meet me somewhere,” She whispered, feeling a giddiness rise within her. She tried to squash it, to push it down. It was the same giddiness she felt when he had smiled at her in the hallways back in their school years. “He probably wants to catch up some more, that’s all,” She told herself, rising from the couch once again to make her way over to the writing desk by the open window. “I would love to go to The Leaky Cauldron, but Draco would never give me money if he knew I was meeting Fred there, best go to his apartment I guess.”

She sat Fred’s letter off to the side, noticing a scrawl on the back of the parchment, making her flip it over.

P.S., This is Earl the Tawny owl, George and I’s owl for the apartment. He took quite a liking to Carina, I think they are quite good friends already.

Shaking her head, she glanced up at the two owls sitting calmly on the perch, tilting their heads at each other. “Earl, nice to meet you.” She nodded at the light brown owl. Earl looked towards her, clicking as if returning the greeting. Nodding, Y/N grabbed a piece of clean parchment and an envelope, plucking the quill from the desktop and uncapping the inkpot. Dipping the end of the quill in, she wiped the access along the lip of the bottle, a bit of black ink rolling down the side of the jar. The quill scratched on the parchment as she elegantly wrote a greeting to Fred, a soft smile on her face as she wrote.

____

The next day at eleven, Y/N wandered into the Twin’s shop, spotting Fred right away. Standing behind the counter, he slid a big bag of products across the counter to a tired-looking man. Her feet easily made their way towards the tall ginger, the same soft smile that she usually wore around Fred taking its place on her face. The man walked past her, the strangers sharing a greeting nod in passing. “Eleven o’clock right on the dot,” Fred commented, stepping out from around the cash, showing Y/N his deep purple suit. “Always so punctual.” He teased, crossing his arms over his chest.

“One of us has to be, and it’s certainly not going to be you, now is it?” She teased back, pushing the thoughts of how good Fred looked in deep purple. Fred chuckled at that, nodding in agreement.

“Too true, Y/N/N,” He shook his head gently, nodding his head in the direction of his apartment. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.” He told her, turning on his heel and striding towards the stairs. Y/N followed after him, taking the shop and its contents in as she passed shelves practically bursting with all the Twin’s inventions on them.

“Should I be scared? You’re not going to try and test a product out on me like when we were in school, are you?” She posed the question nervously, eyeing Fred’s back as they climbed the stairs to get to the apartment door. Fred let out another barking laugh, glancing back at her to throw her a wink that made her knees nearly give out from under her.

“Guess you’ll just have to wait and see,” He teased, not easing any of Y/N’s nerves. Even while she was nervous, she still felt the ease of calmness Fred’s presence cast over her. Fred opened the door, stepping out of the way to let her through first. The small apartment greeted her for the second time. Though it was crowded with furniture, products, and other things, she felt something she never could feel in her house. It felt warm and cozy, like a home, not just a house to sleep in. “Take a seat on the couch, I’ll get us some tea.” Fred told her, not even feeling the need to direct her to the couch. She didn’t feel like he needed to either for she already felt like she knew the space better than she knew her own house. Shedding her travelling cloak and her winter jacket, she draped them over the back of the couch, perching herself neatly on the edge of the cushion as if Lucius would pop out of nowhere and scold her for not sitting properly.

“So what’s this thing you need to show me so bad?” She called behind her towards Fred. She could hear the clanging and the shuffling from him in the kitchen behind her, but she couldn’t hear his reply until she heard him walking up behind her.

“You’ll find out in a second, but first,” He paused, setting two teacups on the coffee table in front of them. “You have to let me sit down,” He joked, lowering himself onto the couch beside her, sitting much more relaxed than she did. He took a sip of his tea, eyeing her, waiting for her to take a sip of hers. Catching is drift, she grabbed the cup, bringing it to her lips and taking a dainty sip. Nodding, he set his cup back down and reached for a bag neatly placed by the coffee table. “Happy Christmas, Y/N/N!” He smiled brightly, handing her the gift bag. She gasped, looking at it.

“A Christmas gift,” She asked, looking at him with wide eyes. “Fred, you shouldn’t have,” She continued, but he brushed her off, placing it in her lap insistently. “But I can’t get you anything in return, Draco won’t let me.” She pointed out sorrowfully, playing with the bit of tissue paper sticking out of the bag.

“Nonsense,” Fred waved his hand in the air before pointing at the bag. “Your reaction to this gift is enough for me,” He insisted. “Now open it or I will open it for you.” With a sigh, she pulled the tissue paper out of the bag, gasping when she saw what was settled at the bottom of it. Looking over at Fred with wide eyes, she looked for a way to know that it was actually what she thought it was. Fred nodded, smiling at her reaction.

“Fred, I-I,” She stammered, reaching in to grab the item, slowly pulling it out for them both to see. “It’s my teacup,” She breathed out in disbelief, looking at the light blue floral cup all over. “And the saucer,” She exclaimed, noticing the small plate also tucked in the bag. “I don’t know what to say, this is simply amazing,” She continued to gush, gently placing it back in the bag. “Where did you find it?”

“Well, I went to all the antique stores in the Alley to see which one you might have sold it to. When I did find it, they had already sold it but turns out, they sold it to Mrs. Echers from the pet shop and so I asked her if I could buy it back for you and she just gave it to me.” He retold the story. Y/N sat the bag down on the coffee table, lunging towards him and wrapping her arms around his shoulders without thinking. She was flat against him as he held his hands away from her in a stunned shock before he let his arms loop around her waist, holding her to him tighter, his eyes closing at the feeling of her warmth.

It was the explosions of mini fireworks under the skin of her lower back where his hands rested that pulled her back to reality and caused her to pull away, remembering that she shouldn’t be holding someone like that when she was engaged. “But, I can’t keep it, Draco and Lucius would never let me bring this into the house.” She remembered sadly. For a moment, she felt like she was free from the weight on her chest, free from this marriage that she and Draco clearly didn’t want.

“I know,” Fred told her, a smirk playing on his beckoning lips. “That’s why I think you should leave it here. You can come over for tea when Draco is at work and you can use it here. Whenever you like,” He suggested, snatching the bag from the table and walking over into the kitchen. Y/N stood, following him. Her heels clicked against the floor of the apartment, not having the same empty echo they did on the floors of the mansion. “That way, we won’t lose touch with each other again.” Fred pointed out, taking the cup and the saucer, placing it in the cubert with their other teacups.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” She admitted, looking down at her feet as Fred turned to face her, the cubert door closing quietly. He gazed down at her, noticing the faint blush that appeared on her cheeks and nose. “I’ve missed talking to you.” She finally looked up at him when she was sure the rosy colour had faded, but her cheeks burned once again when she saw him gazing at her like that.

“I missed talking to you too.” He whispered. She was so wrapped up in the realization of how easy it was to talk to him, how easy it was for the pain and the stress from her life to fit in his hand as he relieved it from bearing down on her. It frightened her, but she couldn’t stop. She knew full well that she was falling for Fred Weasley again, but despite her telling herself not to, she couldn’t help but let the butterflies flutter. While preoccupied with her thoughts, she failed to notice how they grew closer together. On some level, she was aware of it and she wanted to lean closer to him, to press her lips to his, but her rational self was oblivious.

Finally cluing in, her rational self made no move to move away from him was his intoxicating scent flooded her senses. His breath fanned over her face the closer they got to each other, their feet shuffling and closing the distance slowly. She didn’t want to stop this. She wanted to do it even though she knew it was wrong. “Hey, Fred! You gotta come back down, we’re swamped-” George barged into the apartment. Y/N and Fred jumped, but they barely moved apart, their shocked faces only turning to look at the intrusion. “Oh, hello, Y/N, how’s Malfoy?” George wondered, having heard about her engagement from Fred.

“Uh, he’s, uh, good,” She nodded, her eyes darting around in panic. “He’s busy at work, but we think that will clear up after the holidays.” She sputtered nervously, stepping away from Fred hurriedly, coming back to her senses.

“Did you have something in your eye?” George wondered, watching her scramble towards the couch and grab her coat, pulling it on frantically.

“I’m sorry?” She blinked.

“Did you have something in your eye, was that why you guys were standing so close when I came in?”

“Oh, uh, yeah,” She nodded, throwing her travelling coat over her arm and grabbing her bag. “I better go and let you guys get back to work.” She smiled towards Fred sadly, not actually looking at him.

“No, Y/N, you can stay, it won’t take long, we can have the rest of our tea when I come back.” Fred pleaded, not wanting her to leave. She shook her head, rushing towards the door.

“No, no, it’s alright, I have things to tend to at the house anyway. I’ll send you a letter, Fred.” With that, she escaped out the door, leaving a defeated Fred and a confused George behind.

Later that night, laying in the large bed, staring up at the silver moonlight lighting up part of the ceiling, she couldn’t help but think about Fred. Think about how it would feel for him to hold her as they fell asleep, think about how it would feel to kiss him, how it would feel to be wrapped up in his scent. Huffing, she turned her head, spying the dark figure of Draco laying next to her, his back to her. Even in the already large bed, she felt cramped laying next to him, but she also felt lightyears away from him. Sighing, she turned her eyes back to the glowing ceiling, her mind unable to stop thinking about Fred. She had tried so hard not to let him into her heart, not to let him plant himself into her perfectly laid plans, but here he was, slowly climbing up her tower like ivy, almost reaching her.

____

It had been weeks since the incident, and though Y/N had been around Fred, she hadn’t let herself be expressive, instead, she pushed all her feelings to the bottom of her heart and did her best to keep them there until she left his apartment. Even with the tension, their conversations flowed smoothly. But all of those meetings were alone, there was nobody else there, just them. This one was different. This one wasn’t really even a meeting. This was the Ministry’s Christmas party. Y/N was forced to go because of her Fiancé and her future father-in-law both worked with the Ministry. Fred had to go because his father and his brother worked there. The small bit of knowledge that Fred was going to be there both excited and scared her.

His presence at the party was part of the reason she chose to wear this green, wrap dress with the thin straps, and sweetheart neckline. She looked amazing in it and felt amazing in it. She wanted to feel wanted and Fred was the only one she wanted to feel that from. Draco had barely looked at her when she finally descended from the grand staircase in their mansion, too busy talking to his father about how to act at this party. Draco’s hand on her lower-back didn’t ignite the little fireworks that Fred’s did. She didn’t have the same tingling spreading through her body as she did when Fred touched her. Her thoughts weren’t clouded like they were with Fred.

Even before they left the mansion, Y/N found herself longing to have some borrowed time with Fred. She wanted to sneak away with him, seeking the relief he brought her. When they finally arrived at the party and she spotted him across the room, his eyes already on her from the second she stepped into the room, that feeling only intensified. Draco, her Fiancé, was standing right next to her. She should have wanted to have his eyes on her, to feel his touch, to stare into his eyes, but she only wanted Fred. She wanted his eyes on her, she wanted to feel his hands on her lower back, she wanted to stare into his eyes. He had consumed her finally, his ivy growing to cover her tower, reaching inside to save her from her isolation.

“Yes, Y/N and I are still planning our wedding. I’ve just been so busy with work that I haven’t had much time to work out a budget for her and mother to work with,” Draco was locked in a conversation with some old Ministry official, a conversation that Y/N took no part in. Instead, her eyes were locked on Fred across the room, watching as he talked with his twin, sipping at his champagne fluke. “What season were you thinking of having the wedding, Y/N?” Draco asked her, pulling her from her daydream.

She pulled her eyes away from Fred, looking between the man and Draco, Lucius glaring at her subtlety as if to warn her not to mess up. “I was thinking of a spring wedding-”

“A spring wedding,” Lucius repeated in an outcry. “You cannot have a spring wedding. There is mud all over the place. It’s a mess!”

“Yeah, I forgot. Maybe a summertime wedding would be better.” She corrected herself, taking a sip of her fluke.

“Summer weddings are amazing, but they get fairly warm so it would have to be an outdoor wedding,” The man nodded along. “But that doesn’t matter as long as you two are married and start having babies, that’s the main thing, right Lucius?” He exclaimed loudly making Y/N nearly choke on her champagne. The man’s exclamation gained Fred’s attention, making him look over at the group. He saw Malfoy’s arm around her waist, looking rather limp. It was as if he didn’t want to touch her. Y/N on the other hand looked like she wanted to escape his hold and escape this party in general, but she plastered on a fake smile and powered on.

“If you would all excuse me, I have to go powder my nose.” She wiggled out of Draco’s hold, none of them protesting her exit. Setting her champagne down, she exited the main ballroom, wandering through the empty halls, trying to get as far away from the party as she could. She failed to notice Fred following her in a distance, glancing behind him to make sure that nobody noticed or was following him. The slapping of dress shoes interrupted the clicks on her heels, startling her. Scared that it was Draco, she held her breath as she turned around, being pleasantly shocked when she saw Fred running towards her.

She stood there, shocked as he closed in on her, stopping in front of her as he panted slightly. “Hi.” He smiled down at her, breathless and still looking amazing in his black dress robes.

“Hi.” She said, equally as breathless just by looking at him.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t not tell you how great you look tonight, it just wouldn’t be right if you didn’t hear that,” He told her bashfully, stepping closer to her. “And that I missed you.”

She took a step back to create distance between them. “I missed you too, but we can’t do this here, what if Draco or Lucius saw? I would never be able to see you if they saw us.” She worried, looking down the vast hall towards where the party was, not seeing anyone. She let out a breath, looking back to Fred, their eyes connecting and her falling under his spell yet again.

“Why would that matter, we’re just friends catching up.” He asked.

“You know that we’re not just friends talking,” Y/N insisted, shaking her head. Fred bowed his head, licking his lips as he nodded, figuring that she would have brought this up sooner or later. “My life is a bloody fire and you’re the one who started it! I would have been fine being forced into this marriage, not knowing if there actually was someone out there for me to love and to love me, but then you reenter my life and that just shatters everything because no matter how hard I tried to fight this, you managed to plant yourself into my life.” She ranted, her chest heaving up and down as she started to panic, having just confessed that she loved Fred. She hadn’t even come to terms with that, let alone think about telling him that.

“And you think I wanted to do that? You think I wanted to fall in love with the woman who was already promised to another bloke? My feelings for you had never gone away and when I found out that you were engaged, it broke me, but I would rather you be in my life married to another than not be in my life at all. You think you’re the one with the problem? Think about how I feel, the woman I love is going to get married to another man and I can’t do anything about that-”

“Tell me to run.” She interrupted him, catching him off guard.

“What?” He blinked.

“Tell me to run,” She repeated. “If you tell me to run, I will leave Draco, leave the engagement and be with you, but I won’t go if there isn’t a chance of us being together because you’re it for me, Fred. You are the one I love, the only one I love.” She expressed, waiting impatiently for him to speak.

“I-I-”

“Fred, if you don’t tell me to run, I can’t leave. You’ll have to watch me become a Malfoy, watch me drink my husband’s wine like the doting wife I would have to be, watch me be by his side and bear his children. If I told him that I loved another, his father would destroy my house, destroy my family, destroy my owl again, destroy me. He would burn everything to the ground, but if I leave and be with you, I would have the courage to leave. But if you don’t tell me to run, then I will stay right where I am.”

Suddenly, his lips were on hers, moving passionately, their eyes closing as his tongue darted into her mouth. Pressing her against the cold stone wall, she slung her arms around his neck, pressing herself to him, her lips moving hungrily in time with his. Wedging his leg between her legs, she hiked her leg up to his hip. Her buttery smooth, dark red lipstick smudged against his lips and face as they lost themselves in each other, finally subcombing to their desires. She pulled away, panting, her head resting against the wall, her legs wrapping around his waist as she struggled to reach the ground due to his height. “So, was that you telling me to run?” She whispered, her eyes dancing between his as she waited for his answer.

“That was me telling you to run.” He confirmed, smiling down at her. She beamed, her fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

“Then let’s run and get my stuff out of that place before Lucius can even think about ruining it.” She smirked, pressing a lingering kiss to Fred’s lips.

“But, what about Draco?”

“I’ll take care of that later, first, let’s get me out of that house.” With that, they pulled apart, Fred setting her gently on the ground before taking off down the hall towards the floo networks, their hands connected and wild laughs echoing off the walls around them.

#pappydaddy's writing #folklore #evermore #taylor swift #fred weasley #pappydaddy's collections #fred weasley preferences #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley imagines #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x fem!reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy preferences #Harry Potter #harry potter x reader #harry potter imagines

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cruelsfate · 2 years

Note

Maria thinks many times about visiting Marianne in the waning hours of the day once chaos has given way to calm. She frets and flits about in the background like a robin to her many branches, but never does she forget that she worries for Marianne, too. What halts her steps, however, is a simple and integral question: would her company be gift or burden?

What gives her the idea, Maria isn't sure, but the feeling lingers that their battles weighed far differently between them. The solemnity in her face and the determination to her swings... She knows not how to touch them, or even if she should. Her friend is a quiet sort, after all, and the day itself has been nothing if not terrible and clamorous.

So it is that she decides-- with much consternation-- to visit Marianne the next day, when everything has had a chance to settle in. A rap of her knuckles against the inn room door ; a smile, warm and true ; most importantly, the heft of a bag of fresh-baked pastries in the cradle of her arm.

"Marianne!" The lilt of her voice is still bright, but not overwhelmingly so, and she holds up her spoils. "I got some sweets! Do you want to share?"

It takes a while longer for the gravity of the situation to truly set in, but after the fact, it is not difficult to fall into old habits again. Turn her head down, avoid others, keep to herself. They'll return to Garreg Mach before long, and the events that transpired in Merceus could become a faraway memory.

They are still in Fort Merceus, however, and Marianne finds herself unable to pass the grassy area when Errol had been felled without feeling something in her stomach turn.

Perhaps he was not a child, but so long as he wore the face of one then how could she truly say? His fearful little whimper as death came to his door...she’ll not forget the sound for a long time.

Neither would she forget expression on Sasha’s face, nor the tremble of her voice. Three blows dealt to her on the same day — though they were only imposters wearing her family’s skin, Marianne knows the truth likely does not help.

When a knock sounds at her door the next day, she considers ignoring it. She can play at being asleep, or say she was feeling unwell. ( The second one almost certainly would not work, though, considering how many healers were among them. Still, perhaps they would indulge her. They were all there, after all... ) But —

“Marianne!”

— and she goes to open the door, for Maria's sake more than her own. She does not wish to leave her standing in the hall foolishly, all because Marianne is feeling guilty for a death she barely played a part in.

“Maria.” The greeting is not returned with as much vigor, lacking in the effort she oft tries to put in to match Maria's enthusiasm. Tired eyes are drawn to the bag of pastries in the younger students arms as she nudges the door open wider. “Oh, of course.” A pause. “Ah...come in, please.”

She worries, at times, that Maria is too kind to her. Longer and longer her list of debts grows, so long that Marianne wonders if she will die before she can ever repay the other for all that she has done. When she'd felled the false Lord Ziegler just the day before, she felt no pity for him. He and Errol were the same — monsters playing at being human, but still.

Wasn't she?

“Did you mean it?” she asks in between pastries. “When you said I was cool?” Marianne hadn't felt cool, but Maria would not lie to her, would she? No, she wouldn’t. Yet though her Crest had not manifested, Blutgang's siren song had called to her. Wield me, it whispered. Together, we will finish this.

And, okay, Marianne had whispered back, unable to resist its call.

It feels like she's taken a step forward, then two back. She can only deny the curse of her blood for so long before she wants to — aches to — give in. It was so terrible to have to hide all the time. Was it so bad to want to give in?

They will hate you for it, her father’s voice echoes, and though she knows he is right, it does not make her feel any better.

#& ㅤ * ㅤ there is something bleeding to death inside me but i don’t know what it is ㅤ / ㅤ askbox.#& ㅤ * ㅤ carry ruin like a flower or like a crown ㅤ / ㅤ in character.#& ㅤ * ㅤ fantom loews 2022 ㅤ / ㅤ event.#flmerceus2022 #princessmacedon #i don't know why these always get so LONG :sob:

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reversemoon255 · 3 years

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(From September 2020 to February 2021, I worked on a Pokémon themed Dungeons and Dragons campaign for a few friends. We didn’t get very far, but I put a significant amount of work into the world, story, and several Pokémon that would appear throughout, including an original set of starters. I want to to leave some record of my work, so I thought I’d write a few summary posts. And while I designed these Pokémon, their fantastic art was done by @extyrannomon on Twitter. I highly recommend you check them out.)

Dungeons 'n' Dragonites - Phase 1: Hello Stelopy City

Our story starts in Stelopy City, located in the Wellou Region. We get a brief introduction from DJ Tomomitsu, a radio host, before each player got their own brief story segments. Our first player was Ethan, as aspiring chef, who lived on campus at his high school. Ethan was approached by one of his dorm mates with a favor (to get him out of the building), as well as having an attractive girl meandering around the kitchen (if he wished to try flaunting his culinary skills). He would then get to choose to either finish up his side-quest or go to the local fisher's market, with him transitioning between those locations taking him to the area where he would meet his starter Pokémon:

"As you enter the alleyway, the walls are covered floor-to-ceiling in moss that seem to appear as soon as the shadows overtake the sunlight. The farther you walk, the more weeds you see popping through the cracks. Once you reach the half-way point, you come to a small open space. With the sunlight now flickering down through the plants brave enough to venture off the verdant walls, the entire area shines a bright, emerald green. In the center of this area is a decently sized fountain. It's no longer flowing, but there's a decent amount of rain water filling it up close to the brim. As you approach it, even through the murky iridescent waters, you can see a thick, fuzzy amount of lichen growing all throughout the inside of the basin. As you pass by the fountain, you hear an audible sploosh. Do you turn around? (Y/N)"

There he would meet the first of our new Starter, the Grass-Type Flymph. I kept it secret that I was doing original Starters. Part of my personal excitement in planning everything was the eventual reveal of these designs I had created. Kept me going when things started feeling like a grind.

Our second player, Johnny, started off at home, woken by his father asking him to run an errand. After being able to talk to his family a bit, he proceeded to a somewhat beaten-up house on the edge of the Pokémon-overrun abandoned district where he would receive some boat parts before leaving and the sidewalk underneath him collapses. Stumbling around the abandoned subway tunnels for a bit, he would run into our second Starter, the Fire-Type Calfyre.

Johnny's player wanted to become an entertainer, which didn't give me a lot to work session one, so a lot of his opener was focused on expanding the world and giving everyone an idea of areas they would be exploring later.

Third was Orion who had a quiet morning at home before being provoked via text messages from his siblings to chase down a mysterious "Wailord in a Top Hat." This pursuit would also lead him to the fisher's market and the nearby docks, where, after just catching sight of his quarry, he would encounter the Water-Starter Squisque.

Orion's player wanted a lot of his story to be based on his relationship with his father, so most of his opening was based on reinforcing his family dynamic. Not home, everyone’s busy, focus on work. This particular Saturday was strange in that Orion didn’t have anything going on.

Our last player was Arthur, who also lived on campus. While our other three players started their segments in bed, Arthur was playing lacrosse. After having an opportunity to show off (or fail), he would be told by a friend that he had upset his girlfriend that morning (kitchen girl from Ethan's story), and needed Arthur to pick up her favorite dessert while he attempted to woo her for the rest of the day. After doing so (while being given a chance to explore some of the local stores) he encountered a hungry Houndoom who proceeds to chase him up a fire escape. Once up there he encountered our final Starter, the Fairy-Type Utaw.

After each player met their Starters, they would have a brief tutorial battle against three Pokémon they were advantageous against before running into each other, and were subsequently arrested for "stealing" Pokémon, which would cap session one.

=====

Let's talk design. Stelopy City is loosely based on Chicago, is a portmanteau of "Steel Canopy," and Wellou is a joke on Illinois. The vast majority of the campaign was to take place in this location. Most of my players had very busy schedules (so busy it took us three sessions to get through the above opener), so DJ Tomomitsu was a way for me to easily start each session with a list of things to do (side-quests), and they as a group could decide which they were the most interested in based on time. Tomomitsu himself was based on DJ Sagara from Kamen Rider Gaim, with Tomomitsu being the name of the actor who played him.

As for the starters, I tried to stick to the reoccurring themes we’ve seen over the past 8 Generations. Flymph's name is a portmanteau of Dragonfly, Errol Flynn, and Nymph (the larval form of a Dragonfly). He's meant to be a special attacker, but, like an early DND Wizard, doesn't have access to a lot of them so he brandishes his sword-like arms to intimidate his foes instead. His diet consists entirely of lichens, algae, and similar flora, storing them in his transparent stomach pouches, and can be seen sunbathing in the water, belly up, feeding the plant matter the sunlight they need to grow. He also does not like Bug-Types, and isn’t Bug himself because of Grass/Bug’s myriad of weaknesses (for balancing), plus he changes Types after his first evolution. The theme of Grass Starters is extinction, which won’t become clear until his final evolution, but you may be able to guess how he relates.

Fire Starters are themed after the Chinese Zodiac, and of the remaining four yet to be used (including Snake, Ram, and Horse), I went with Ox. Calfyre's name is a play on Calf and Fire, and is meant to play like a Barbarian. When it comes to personality he's very timid and unsure of himself like a first-time DND player might be acting in a group. Unlike most Fire-Types, Calfyre lacks a Flame Sac. Instead, his spiral horns are filled with a freon-like liquid that, when swirled, rapidly absorbs energy from the air, which he uses for attacks. This chills the air around him, and makes him one of the few Fire-Types that are cold to the touch. Which sucks, because he’s a snugly sleeper.

Water Starters are usually themed after a weapon or character class. This usually shows in the later evolutions, but it's pretty obvious Squisque (a portmanteau of Squirt, Squire, and Bisque) is themed off a lance and shield. He's a paladin in both role and personality, charging in at the slightest sign of trouble, even if there isn't any real danger. It's the typical non-nuanced idea of what people think when they hear "Paladin." He was to a degree supposed to play a catalyst role, charging into situations the players may not want to in order to force them into helping people or combat if need be. He was also the first design I settled on, being based on an old Kaijin idea I had of a lobster-knight using its asymmetrical claws as different medieval weapons.

Utaw is unique, not just in that he was a fourth or Fairy Starter, but in conception. I was only supposed to have three players, but ended up with four. As such, his design is responsive to the others. Why a dinosaur? Because I had a mammal, crustacean, and bug, was unsure if I wanted a bird or reptile, and decided to meet half-way. Why is he Fairy? Because it has very little interaction with Fire, Water, and Grass, while still having defined weaknesses and resistances to certain types. (Also, this player wanted a Dragon-Type.) He’s based on a Utahraptor, hence the name, and is misspelled to include “Claw” or “Caw.” He’s meant to play team Bard, and uses sound moves. As for personality, he's a bit of a birdbrain who enjoys fighting. Not maliciously; it’s just fun, again acting like a new DND player who’s more interested in combat than role playing.

The idea with the personalities was that each Pokémon was supposed to start out like a rookie DND player on their first campaign. Not knowing how to play their class, being uncomfortable acting in front of a group, leaning too hard into your role without bending, or just fighting everything you see without diplomacy. It felt like a fun extra layer to each of these Pokémon that tied them just as much into the DND side of things as the Pokémon.

=====

Back to our story, after being briefly detained (mostly as an excuse to give the players time to introduce themselves to each other, something my DMs have struggled with), they meet Professor(-in-training) Bianca. The four Pokémon had been found by Silph Co., and had decided to donate them to the Unovan Pokémon Research Lab. However, after seeing the Pokémon interacting with these people, Bianca decides to give them up instead. "Pokémon should be with people," after all.

I had three side quests set up following this (after they all go to the DMV to get their Trainer's licenses). The first was a general "there's wild Pokémon here" quest where they could train and catch things. There was a sale at the mall where they could get some cheap held items and have their first trainer battle, and an event at the fisher's market where they could win some free items and would lead into their first dungeon.

The dungeon was what I was hoping they would pick, and would have them chase a group of Poipole through a warehouse, with them having different battles if they chose to enter from the front or the back. After defeating them, the Poipole would be sucked through a spontaneously generating Ultra Wormhole, with a high enough perception check revealing a strange laugh, or on a 20 have them catch a glimpse of a grey Charizard O_O

From there it was a matter of coming up with (or possibly recycling unused) side-quests until we reached the point where the Starters were about to evolve. I had a few things planned; introductions to a few reoccurring NPCs, a field trip to the local museum where they would be able to catch a Yamask (and possibly learn something about the origins of their Starters), and a raid battle against a group of Onix who would recur through the campaign.

The end of Phase 1 would come about with another dungeon. In the middle of the night, Ethan and Arthur would be awoken by their Pokémon to a group of Durant having busted through the floor of the dorm and raiding their kitchen. Easily driving them off, their Pokémon would encourage them to pursue. Later, full party in toe, the four of them would explore the Duranthill. There would be a number of possible encounters, but only one mandatory fight before reaching the depths. In said encounter, while being surrounded by a group of Durant, they would receive unexpected help from this Pokémon:

With some interpretation, they would discover that this Princess Durant was afraid for the sake of her colony. A new queen had taken up residence there, and was commanding the Durant to attack the surface and steal food for her. With additional party member in toe, they would descend further with better direction, eventually discovering the lair of the Queen Durant...

#Pokemon #Dungeons and Dragons #DND #DND Homebrew #durant

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gentlebeardsbarngrill · 3 months

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02/12/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; Parrot Analytics; Cast & Crew; Kristian Nairn; Nathan Foad; Erroll Shand; Trends and Stats; V-Day Video for Prime; In person events and Watch Party reminders; People of Earth; WooAsACrew; Kudoboard for Cast & Crew Update; Love Notes; Daily Darby; Tonight's Taika; Well folks, it was another busy busy day. I apologize, I'm a bit exhausted today so I'll be making this quicker than normal.

== Parrot Analytics ==

Some Q4 data was released by Parrot Analytics for HBO and Max and as you can probably imagine, this made most of the internet explode. Referencing @adoptourcrew here since they did a great bit of research.

SRC: HBO's Most Popular Shows - hidden behind Paywall

== UK How You Can Help==

Below are actions to do every day to capitalise on #OurFlagBBC! More info below on how to use YouGov. Tumblr

=Cast & Crew Sightings=

= Wee John Wondays ==

I think everyone's favorite part of the day was when Nathan Foad appeared on Wee John Wonday's. He is by far one of the best guests ever.

Please go watch the whole damn live, but if you don't have time right now. Here's a clip from our fabulous friend @edscuntyeyeshadow who recorded it for us, I have just left it on repeat so I can continue to laugh.

A few quotes/highlights in case you can't watch anything right now:

Highlights:

Kristian's Garage Fire

Nathan's Writing

Nathan was VERY sick at the beginning of filming S2, Sick AF and had to learn how to roll and smoke cigarettes.

Nathan was not aware he was on camera when the sandwich hit him in the face.

Gypsy made him a jacket to wear IRL that matched his gorgeous one in the show (Gypsy is the best)

Nathan's favorite scene was the one with Matt Maher with the Art on the Wall.

Kristian's favorite scene was the one with Con O'Neill and asking to put on make up

Quotes:

"NOT TO BE A BIG THING RIGHT NOW BUT I AM" - Nathan

"Sniffed the air like a fox in heat" - Kristian

"You little gay bitch" - Nathan

"Mid town special" - Nathan, as Kristian

"Im a horrible un wanted nipple twister" - Kristian

"Needy puffs" - Nathan

== Erroll Shand ==

As usual our dear friend Erroll is out here really pushing the SaveOFMD material/data.

== Trends and Stats ==

== Valentine's Day Video For Prime ==

It’s Monday, which means it’s time to send Prime Video all our love ! Let’s #WooAsACrew 🐙💜 Vocals: ferventrabbit on Twitter Video: Giulianaazr on Twitter

youtube

== Event and Watch Party Reminders! ==

= OFMD Matelotage Processional =

Tues Feb 13: 8-11 am at: Kismet Salon 4111 W Olive Ave. Burbank CA 91505

If you show up-- you get free stickers!

= People of Earth Watch Party =

People of Earth Season 1: Episodes 3 and 4 tomorrow! If you don't have access reachout to @iamadequate1!

10 PM GMT / 5 PM EST / 4 PM CST / 2 PM PST

#PiratesOfEarth

#SaveOFMD

#AdoptOurCrew

= WooAsACrew =

Tue 13: Send @netflix some love!

== Cast & Crew Kudoboard ==

Hey all, I already made a short post about it but the Kudoboard was overrun by some absolute twats today so I had to lock it down with a password. If you'd like to still submit something to the cast and crew that's still doable, you'll just need the pw. Please just DM me here or twitter, or Instagram, or wherever you can find me or the @saveofmdcrewmates folks also have it. We will be sending it off / locking it on Valentine's day early morning so please reach out prior!

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies, I am really low on spoons tonight so I'm gonna let some other folks send you love on my behalf. See you tomorrow, all the love. <3

== Daily Darby / Tonight's Taika ==

Tonight's gifs are courtesy of:

Taika: @chrysalis-writes and Rhys: @thunderwingdoomslayer

Happy Murray Monday and Enjoy tomorrow's Taika Tuesday!

#daily ofmd recap #daily ofmd recaps #ofmd daily recap #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd #our flag means death #save ofmd #rhys darby #save our flag means death #taika waititi #kristian nairn #nathan foad #erroll shand #wee john wondays #in person events #watch partys

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weasleydream · 4 years

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The purest love

*and probably one of the fluffiest things i’ve written so far 😂*

I don’t have a lot to say except enjoy this lil Georgie piece!

Masterlist

(gif not mine)

“Do you want something to drink, dear?”

I lifted my head. Mum was slowly stretching her back with a grimace of light pain. Her straw hat fell backwards and she glared at it.

“Wait, I’ll get it.”

I grabbed the hat and put it on Mum’s head before giving it a little hit, hiding her eyes in the process.

“You’re getting too old for that, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely not.”

Her firm tone made me laugh and she raised an eyebrow at me.

“Are you making fun of your dear mother?”

“Absolutely not.”

Mum groaned and gave me her back. She removed her gardening gloves, threw them in a bucket and headed in the house.

“A lemonade would be perfect!” I yelled to make sure she heard me.

“Summon it then!” Her head appeared through the kitchen’s window which was open. “Oh, I forgot you can’t!”

“You’re just jealous.” I replied.

These bickering were frequent with Mum. Some people thought we had a conflictual relationship whereas I was pretty sure no daughter had a stronger bond with her mother than the one I had with mine. Mum had done everything for me since birth, but it had become harder for her after her divorce with Dad. She was a muggle, yet she had to deal with all the magical stuff and it hadn’t been easy. My first year at Hogwarts had marked my first year far from her… And Merlin knew I had been as sad as her. But now, six years later, things had gotten easier.

Mum came back with a tray and put it on the table. I sat with her, enjoying the shadow provided by the trees above our heads, and I contemplated the garden. A multitude of different flowers were growing everywhere, in an elegant mix that we owed to Mum. Flowers were her passion, and she had transmitted it to me. Gardening was my favourite activity to do with her.

“Can I ask you something, dear?”

Mum was looking at me with a malicious look, and I immediately knew what she was up to. I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that spreaded on my face.

“I told you George will come soon, he just wants Arthur to be available. He loves muggles and -”

“And he will be completely delighted to meet me, I know.” Mum smiled. “But I hear about him and his family since your first year at Hogwarts and now he’s your boyfriend. I have to validate him.”

“To validate him?” I laughed. “Mum, you’re impossible. Sometimes I wonder who’s seventeen.”

“I’m still a teen in my head.”

“Not in your body, unfortunately.”

Mum faked an almost convincing pout before exploding in laughters. Indeed, after a year and half of crush (unfortunately noticed in a week by the red headed demon, aka Ginny Weasley) I had started dating George. The boy, despite being one of the two most mischievous persons I knew, the other being Fred, was the sweetest and most caring boyfriend I could ever have. Summer had begun only three weeks earlier, yet I couldn’t wait to see him again. We had talked about a diner organized with his family, Mum and I, and I had had the idea to organize it in my home, thinking that Arthur would be delighted and Molly relieved to not have anything to do. The downside? Hearing about this diner twice a day, everyday. Mum was as excited as me, as it seemed.

“Come on,” she said while patting my leg, “let’s finish this before we boil.”

We spent the rest of the afternoon the hands in the soil, planting the last flowers and removing weeds. However, I wasn’t focused on what I was doing anymore. Thanks to Mum, my thoughts had been invaded by my sexy boyfriend. I imagined our reunion, the passionate kiss we would share and the secret ones disseminated during the diner. I was dreamily looking at the shovel I was holding when Mum called me.

“If he looks like that shovel, you better review your beauty standards!” she laughed.

I precipitately let go of the shovel and tried to look annoyed, but my burning cheeks made it particularly difficult.

“Shut up Mum!”

But she wasn’t listening to me anymore. She was looking in the sky above the house, her eyes shaded with one hand to protect them from the light.

“Is it an owl?”

I turned my head and saw that indeed, an owl was flying above our house. It only could be one of my friends, but who?

“Maybe it’s George!” I exclaimed.

When the owl hit the chimney before flying down, I knew it was Errol and rushed in the living-room. Errol had spilled a big vase on the table, making water flooding from the wood and forming a pool at my feet. The lillies had been thrown on the table. The owl was paddling in the water, and the letter threatened to fall off its paw. I took it and patted delicately the head of the animal before opening the parchment.

Hi love,

I can’t wait to see you again. Dad is impatient too, and he’ll do whatever it takes for him to be free for the next week. Mum wants to know if she needs to prepare something, you know how she is.

For my part, I keep working on our shop project with Fred. We’ve imagined something new but you won’t know now! I know you’ll complain because you hate when I do this but I prefer keeping the surprise (be careful, Fred wants to test it on you).

I love you, see you soon!

George

With a big smile on my face, I tightened the letter against my heart and closed my eyes. Even the threat of Fred planning to prank me wasn’t enough to make me think about anything else than George. I heard Mum’s steps a few seconds later and she threw me an interrogative look. I showed her the letter and she read it, slightly smirking at what she called the awfully cheesy words. She handed it back to me and looked at the mess on the table.

“I swear this owl is dangerous.” She mumbled. “Look at my poor lilies! I’ll pluck this bird if one of them is- wait, I didn’t have any gardenia here!”

Indeed, in the middle of the lilies there was a beautiful white gardenia. I took it and noticed its scent. It was more powerful than it should have been and I understood where it came from.

“It’s George!” I exclaimed.

Mum smiled brightly and patted my shoulder.

“You’re lucky, dear. “she said. “The white gardenia symbolizes the pure and true love. He really loves you.”

“And I really love him.”

#Harry Potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter imagine #george weasley #george x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x you

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official-weasley · 3 years

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The Irreplaceable Charlie Weasley: Pt. 3, Ch. 1

PART 3: THE YEAR OF QUIDDITCH & MAGICAL CREATURES Chapter 1 - Bill the Prefect

Nova

A few days after I returned from my aunt from Scotland, I received a letter from Charlie. Pip looked so pleased to see me as I decided to leave him at home since I knew my aunt has plenty of owls I could borrow. I was a little afraid that Pip would be angry with me for that but he looked rather cheerful.

“What are you up to, my little feather friend?” I petted his soft head and took the scroll he had tied around his foot.

Dear Nova,

After the last owl your mum sent to mine, Pip decided to stay with us and I can't wait to tell you how funny it was when he tried to befriend Errol but apparently, she is just as awkward at social interactions as she is with delivering letters.

Pip was a very good boy and he kept me company in my room. Ginny wanted him in her room, of course, she said that it's not fair that I get to keep him since she misses you more and that I have you for the entire school year.

I am sending him back now, as your mum wrote in the previous letter that you might be back soon. She and my mum also made arrangements for the picnic next week since your dad has a few days off.

Oh, and Bill and Ginny wanted to let you know that they are saying hello.

Can't wait to see you next week!

Love, Charlie

I folded the parchment and looked at Pip who hooted proudly. He was spending time at the Burrow, while I was at my aunt's.

“Lucky bloke.” I showed him my tongue and he seemed even more amused now.

I gave him some food and rushed down the stairs to tell my mum about the picnic.

“Mum! Mum!”

“In the living room, sweetheart!” I heard her say.

“Mum, Charlie wrote to me and we are invited to a picnic at the Weasley's next week!” I sat next to her on the sofa.

“I know already, darling. Molly sent me an owl yesterday morning.” I frowned. Why was I the last one to know everything?

“Are you excited to see Charlie?” She winked at me.

I couldn't believe her! After 2 years she still didn't give me a break! I never replied to her mocking comments anymore and I acted as if it didn't phase me at all at this point. I was hoping she would stop but if you'd saw her face right now, you would know that she is still amused about her little joke.

“So, how many days did dad get off work?” I changed the topic. She rolled her eyes, giving up on her silly question.

“He is getting 3 days. So I was thinking we could go to the ZOO one day and then spend the other two days at the Weasley's.” She brushed my hair with her fingers.

“I miss him so much! I wish he could stay for longer.” I bowed my head.

I haven't seen my dad since the beginning of the Summer. He came home a day after I arrived from Hogwarts, which was such a surprise and my mum was so happy that she kept it from me. We spent a couple of days together which was not enough, since I needed an entire day just to tell him about my Second Year at Hogwarts.

Then we had to leave to visit our dull relatives in America and since the trip cost me my quality time with dad I liked them even less now.

The last time I saw him was when we went to Greece for a little vacation. Turns out my dad had to look at a temple there that was covered with suspicious runes and I was allowed to look at them with him!

Not only was it going to be a good story for my Ancient Runes class that I am taking this year, but it was also one of the best times I had with my dad in a while. Being with him is always so much fun and it makes mum happy as well and just being a family is something that I've missed so much last Summer.

—

Needless to say, just by seeing dad more often is was the best Summer ever. When we returned home and he had to go back to work, I decided to accept my aunt's invitation and visit her and her little Abraxan family in Scotland.

It turned out that I arrived just in time as one of her Abraxan's was due to have her baby. Sending pictures of the baby and Angel made Charlie jealous again which was a very nice amusement for me.

Angel was now all grown up and when I was packing my things to go to Scotland, I couldn't help but wonder if he was going to remember me at all. Much to my surprise, he was waiting for me when I arrived and my aunt told me that he has been more playful and cheerful ever since my arrival announcement.

My aunt and I trained him for a couple of days and we were trying to prepare him for his first flight with a human. I couldn't believe my aunt was going to let me do this! Of course, she made me swear not to tell my parents as they would have her head. I, on the other hand, couldn't wait for the moment to arrive and even though I was quite nervous, I was confident that my relationship with Angel was strong enough for us to see the grasslands from above the clouds together.

It seemed that I was the only one nervous because when I took Angel out that day and told him we were going to fly, he kneeled and offered me a seat immediately.

And let me tell you that flying on Angel was the best thing I have ever experienced. I was wondering if this is how Muggles feel when they fly with a plane. It was so liberating and the view was breathtaking. Not to mention how good it felt to know that an Abraxan trusts me so much and Angel was very careful not to make any sudden movements or fly too quickly for me to fall off him.

The very next morning I decided to make Charlie even more jealous and sent him a message with Pip telling him all about my flying session. I assumed he was very mad at me when the owl he sent back was Errol and not Pip and the message was short and to the point, saying only that he is happy for me. No hello and no goodbye.

—

The message Pip brought me this morning and reading about how excited he was for the picnic made me think that perhaps he finally forgave me for rubbing it in his face about my amazing adventure with Angel.

—

I came back from my daydreaming as I felt my mum brushing my hair with her fingertips.

“I know you miss your dad, sweetheart. I miss him too. He is just so busy at work, if you're going to be a Curse Breaker, you'll see how it is.” She smiled at me.

“You know I don't want to be a Curse Breaker, mum.” I frowned at her. As if I don't talk about animals 24 hours a day.

“Well, you know your dad and I will support you no matter what you decide to do.”

I started packing the very next day as I couldn't convince my mum to buy all my books in advance for my Third Year so that I could read them. One of these years she will have to let me do it. Perhaps in my O.W.L. or N.E.W.T. year!

I sent my answer back to Charlie with Pip and ordered him to just stay there. I knew Charlie was going to take good care of him.

I was drawing as much as my hands possibly let me for the next week. I couldn't believe how busy I was in my Second Year, I hardly drew at all at school. And I wanted to get as much out of it as possible since we would have 2 new subjects this year, I knew I was going to have even less time and it kept the time going, as I couldn't wait to go to the Burrow again.

I also took the time to write back to Penny, Tonks, and Tulip as I was neglecting their letters when I was at my aunt's.

Penny wrote to me several times. She was having a pretty good Summer despite the fact that they didn't take their annual Muggle vacation. She said that she was having a surprisingly good time with her relatives and what came as an even bigger surprise was the fact that her dad, who was a Muggle, had a nice time too, despite the relatives being all Magic folk.

Tonks wrote to me twice. Once for advice on which prank should she perform next on her parents and the second one to scold us all as apparently she also wrote to Tulip, Penny and Charlie and Tulip and I agreed on the same prank but Penny and Charlie said that she should pick the other one. She said that we didn't help her at all and what good is she keeping us as friends. Of course, I knew she was joking and it was funny to see that her Summer didn't change at all from that of last year.

A few days before my dad came home for us to go to the Burrow, Tonks wrote to me again. It was a short letter but I don't know if I have ever gasped so much at the news.

Wotcher Nova,

I hope you are having a nice Summer. I just wanted to tell you that perhaps my parents aren't the worst. Today at breakfast, my mum didn't call me by the name we don't mention but called me Dora instead.

I have to say it does have a better ring to it. What do you think?

Miss you loads,

Tonks

Dora? Not bad! She didn't mind it as much as Nymphadora and she said something nice about her parents for a change. If Penny was here she would have tears in her eyes and she would say that Tonks is finally growing up.

The last one I had to reply to was Tulip. She couldn't stop talking about all the items she was going to buy in Hogsmeade this year. Apparently, business was doing rather well for her mum's coffee shop and she said that she learned that if she smiles more to the customers, they think she's cute and she gets a bigger tip.

I guess she started using her charm on the guests because I know that the list of prank items she wants to get from Zonko's cost a fortune.

—

The day to see the Weasley family again has finally arrived. My dad came home yesterday and we spent it in the living room discussing my Third Year and my dad gave me a really old book about translating ancient runes. He said that it might come in handy in class and I couldn't wait to read the whole thing before the start of school on 1st September and I knew Bill would like to go through it after I am done.

I was all packed and ran down the stairs to the living room where my parents were already waiting with the bag of Floo Powder.

“I think you should go first, pumpkin.” My dad winked at me and handed me the bag of Floo.

I put my hand inside and took out a handful of powder and stepped into our fireplace.

“Now, careful with the pronunciation, pumpkin.” He always said that, no matter how many times I traveled with Floo Powder. It might get annoying to some but since I don't get to see my dad so often I knew it meant a lot to him to be the one to do some parenting.

“The Burrow!” I spoke clearly and the last thing I saw before appearing in Weasley's living room was my dad's proud face.

“Nova!” One of the twins helped me dust myself off.

“Welcome back!” Said the other one.

I knew they were only 8 years old but I'm sure they were a head taller than the last time I saw them.

I gave them a hug and they rushed out to where I presumed the rest of the Weasley kids were playing Quidditch.

“Nova, dear. How are you? Welcome back!” Molly, like always greeted me with extended arms and a big smile on her face. A second later my mum appeared in the fireplace.

“Ah, Olivia. So good to see you.” Molly hugged my mum.

“Arthur will be home any second now and the boys and Ginny are playing Quidditch outside.” Molly winked at me because she must've seen that I would rather not be there when the adults do their catching up.

As I got outside, Ginny spotted me at once.

“Nova!” She squeaked and gave me a big hug. “Come quickly, the boys are just going to finish the game and you can join the next one!”

She was just adorable. Big eyes, long fiery hair, and cheeks almost as freckled as Charlie's.

I looked to the Orchard and saw Bill, Charlie, and what looked like the twins flying. Ron was waiting for his turn on the broom, having a rather sad look on his face and I wasn't even surprised that Percy wasn't there as he was probably in his room, reading.

I was excited to play Quidditch with the boys and get in as much practice as possible as I was planning to try out for the House Team this year. Charlie and I discussed it since we would be playing against one another as he got on the Gryffindor Quidditch Team in the last weeks before the end of last year and we decided we would be okay competing against each other as he was the Seeker and I was going to try out for the Chaser position.

Ginny and I got closer to the boys and just as we did, Charlie lowered his body closer to the broom, gained speed, stretched out his hand, and caught the Snitch. I heard the twins using a couple of swear words I am sure would put them in trouble if Molly heard them as they were walking towards us.

“Why did you catch the Snitch so fast, Charlie?” Bill asked and then saw me standing at the edge of the pitch with Ginny. He looked at Charlie and back at me and a smirk appeared on his face.

“Show off.” He said to Charlie, whose cheeks were now covered in a pink hue, and ruffled his hair.

“Hi, Nova!” Charlie gave me a tight hug that reminded me that of Molly's. After him, Bill hugged me as well and gave me his broom.

“If Charlie's going to show off in front of you, might as well play on the same team.”

The twins were already running back to the hoops.

“C'mon! George, you promised!” Ron ran after them.

“Want to play a game with us?” Charlie scratched the back of his head.

“I thought you'd never ask!” I replied, lifting Bill's broom.

We ran back to the pitch. Fred and George got so much better compared to last Summer as Charlie and I barely beat them and I don't know how the game would've ended if George wouldn't finally give in to Ron, who was sitting at the edge of the pitch looking miserable and allowed him to play with Fred for 10 minutes.

The sun was going down and Bill came to tell us that dinner was ready. We were sitting outside, as the evenings were still warm and there were too many of us to sit inside anyway. Bill, Percy, Ron, and Ginny helped set the table as we washed ourselves and put the brooms back where they belong.

I hurried inside to say hello to my dad who was in a heated debate about the Ministry with Arthur.

“There she is! My Quidditch player.” I sat on his lap and he hugged me tightly.

Molly soon called us all to the table and I couldn't imagine a more perfect scene. Molly was asking my mum what type of cauldron she has for potions and my dad and Arthur were reminiscing on their days at Hogwarts. Ron and Ginny were annoying Percy as he wanted to leave the table sooner and they didn't let him. Fred and George were whispering about something that sounded like fireworks or firecrackers or something to do with fire.

Meanwhile, Bill finally got the time to tell me that he was made a Prefect.

“Congratulations, Bill! Charlie, why didn't you tell me?” I poked his ribs with my finger.

“Because he likes to talk about himself in his letters to you, don't you Charlie?” Bill chuckled.

“Bug off, Bill.” Charlie frowned, crossed his hands on his chest, his face red as his hair.

“Just know that this year there won't be any rule-breaking! Not on my watch!” Bill joked and made a rather serious face that made both me and Charlie laugh.

It was a perfect night. Me, my best friend and our families together. I couldn't help but wish that we could do this more often.

After dinner, my mum was helping Molly clean the kitchen, Fred and George went to their room, Ron tried to convince Percy to play Wizard Chess with him, Ginny was playing with Pip while Bill, Charlie and I sat on the sofa and read.

I showed them the book my dad gave me and we were scrolling through it to see what to expect from the Ancient Runes class this year.

All of a sudden an owl burst through the open door that led to the garden, dropped a letter in my dad's lap, and flew out.

I frowned. I knew exactly what a golden-blue envelope meant. My dad had to go back to work. He sighed and opened the letter.

“When do you have to go?” My mum started reading the letter behind his shoulder. “Now.” My dad said and looked at me.

“Come here, pumpkin.” He waved with his hand and I followed him outside.

“I am so sorry I have to leave again.” His lips curved into a sad expression. “I know I promised you a couple of days before you go back to school.”

“It's okay dad. I understand.” I tried to act as though it wasn't breaking my heart that he had to go.

“It's not okay. You shouldn't be without your dad so much.” He hugged me. “I will try to get at least a couple of hours off for Christmas. Do you know if you'll be coming home this year?” He asked.

“I don't know. It really depends if mum will get time off and what my friends will have in plan.” I gave out a weak smile and bowed my head.

“Listen, I know I might not be around much but I hope you know how proud I am of you. You have good grades, you are trying out for Quidditch this year and I know I haven't met your girls, but Charlie seems like a really good friend.” He lifted my chin.

“He is.” I smiled. “He's my best friend.”

“I am happy to hear that. Molly and Arthur were amazing friends to me and your mum when we were in school. I am confident all of their children are great.” He hugged me again and placed something in my hand.

It was a small bag that seemed to be filled with coins.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I didn't have time to buy you any art supplies so when you'll go shopping for your books, buy yourself some.” He winked at me, gave me another tight hug, and accompanied me back inside.

He said goodbye to everyone and disapparated in the Garden. I watched the spot he disappeared at as if waiting for him to come back.

“Are you okay?” Charlie interrupted my stare.

“I'll be fine.” I smiled at him and he hugged me.

My dad was right, Weasley's were a great family. The best actually.

—

The next day my mum and I said goodbye to them and went back home. I was sad to leave Charlie so quickly but I knew it was almost time to go back to school and that cheered me up.

The next few weeks were busy. My mum and I went shopping for my new books, we visited Tulip in her mum's café and she even allowed me to go inside Quality Quidditch Supplies. She knew that she wouldn't hear the end of it if she wouldn't let me go.

I also told her about the money dad gave me and she took me to several shops where I got some new pencils, two new notebooks, and a new quill. I decided to save the rest of the money for sweets and Butterbeer for when we go to Hogsmeade this year.

I was happy how fast the days were flying. I helped my mum around the house most days, as she decided to redecorate the terrace and the living room, and one day we went up the attic and while we were cleaning she found an old album from her days at Hogwarts. I couldn't believe how young they were once and I almost didn't recognize my mum and Molly in the picture they took when they went to the Ball. Let's just say my dad and Arthur were two really lucky blokes!

When mum and I arrived at Platform 9 ¾ I spotted Charlie immediately. This time around Percy, the twins, Ron, and Ginny were with them. Apparently, they wanted to see the Hogwarts Express and go through the wall according to one of the twins.

Bill, Charlie, and I waved to our mums until the train took a turn and they disappeared out of sight. Bill told us to go find our friends as he was supposed to have a meeting with other Prefects and then chaperone the corridors.

We found the compartment Tulip and Penny were sitting in and as we sat down, Tonks joined us as well.

“Hi, Dora!” I greeted Tonks as she sat next to me.

“On the second thought, I think I will stick with not liking my parents.” She said after giving the sound of her new nickname a thought. We all laughed.

Penny told us just how proud her dad was when she told him she was going to take Muggle Studies this year and she said that he gave her three books about how electricity works. The only thing I knew about it was how to pronounce it. That didn't seem to be the case when it came to Tulip and Tonks as both had a puzzled look on their face when Penny was explaining how to pronounce it for the third time.

Tulip said that she couldn't wait to find Jae and that along with Tonks they would have to cause a lot of mischief this year because her mum didn't allow her to do anything but work in the shop all Summer.

“Not on my watch, Tulip.” Bill joined us in the compartment.

“Oh, right. We have a Prefect in the family now.” Giggled Tonks.

“Congratulations, Bill! They couldn't get a better person for the job!” Beamed Penny. Charlie and I exchanged looks and started giggling.

Bill then told us all about the meeting. Who the other Prefects were and what exactly were their responsibilities. I know I am not the one to talk, sneaking into the Forbidden Forest with Charlie last year wasn't exactly obeying the rules, but being a Prefect sounded like something I might want to put on my wish list.

Then he told us all about how nervous he is about their Career Advice Meeting, which all 5th Year students have to attend. He wasn't confident that he has the suitable grades to become a Curse Breaker and when he started thinking about other options, he couldn't think of any and started to panic.

We calmed him down, as we were sure he was overreacting when it comes to his grades just as much as Penny did every year and in the end came out on the top of our class.

After it seemed he calmed down a little, he said goodbye as it was his turn to keep watch on the corridors.

We started talking about our Elective Subjects and wondered how they would be and if we made the right choice. Penny was sad that she was the only one who picked subjects that none of us picked and she didn't want to be alone in class. We quickly reminded her that she taught half of our year Potions in both First and Second Year and that there is bound to be someone she knows.

Tulip and Tonks shared Divination. Charlie, Tonks, and I shared Care of Magical Creatures and as Tulip, Charlie, and I shared Ancient Runes I decided to show the book my dad got me to her and she said that she was rather excited about the subject now, if we were going to learn about what was in the book.

Charlie and I soon went into our little world of Quidditch and Care of Magical Creatures. We went through our list of Creatures we bet were in the Creature Reserve at school and then we talked about beating each other in Quidditch.

Before we realized we were close to school, Bill came into our compartment again to tell us to put on our robes and prepare to get off the train.

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thelittlesttimelord · 3 years

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The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 8

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 8 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 8/? SUMMARY: With the Doctor newly regenerated, he and Elise must now navigate their new relationship. The Doctor is an old man and Elise is a headstrong young woman. She is no longer the scared little girl the Doctor saved all those years ago. Will Clara be able to keep them from killing each other?

“Take a punt,” the Doctor told Clara. He was doing some sort of math on one of his chalkboards while Clara sat down near the console.

“Right,” Clara said.

“Your choice. Wherever, whenever, anywhere in time and space.”

“Well, there is something, someone that I've always wanted to meet. But I know what you'll say.”

“Try me.”

“You'll say he's made up, that there is no such thing.”

“Go on.”

“It's…it's Robin Hood.”

“Robin Hood.”

Clara walked up the steps towards the Doctor. “Yeah. I love that story. I've always loved it, ever since I was little.”

“Robin Hood, the heroic outlaw, who robs from the rich and gives to the poor.”

“Yeah.”

“He's made up. There's no such thing.”

“Ah, you see?”

The Doctor pulled a book off his bookcase. “Old-fashioned heroes only exist in old-fashioned story books, Clara.” He thumbed through a few of the pages before setting the book back in its place.

“And what about you?”

“Me?”

“Yeah, you. You stop bad things happening every minute of every day. That sounds pretty heroic to me.”

“Just passing the time. Hey, what about Mars?”

“What?!”

“The Ice Warrior Hives.”

“After what happened on that submarine? I don’t think so,” Elise told him. She wanted to forget that adventure. She still had nightmares.

“You said it was my choice,” Clara argued.

“Or the Tumescent Arrows of the Half-Light. Those girls can hold their drink,” the Doctor rambled.

“Doctor.”

“And fracture fifteen different levels of reality simultaneously. I think I've got a Polaroid somewhere.” The Doctor came down the stairs towards the console with Clara following him.

“Doctor! My choice. Robin Hood. Show me.”

“Very well.” He put in coordinates and set the TARDIS in flight. “Earth. England. Sherwood Forest. 1190AD. Ish. But you'll only be disappointed.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“You can’t wear a black dress! You’re not going to a funeral!” Clara told Elise. Clara wanted to look the part and dragged Elise along with her. Clara looked through the dresses and pulled out a green one.

“It’s perfect! It’ll go great with your hair.” She shoved the dress into Elise’s arms. “Well go on, get dressed.”

Elise changed into the medieval style dress. It felt wrong not to be in her leather jacket and boots, but she had to admit that she looked rather good.

“Might have to cover that though,” Clara said pointing at the roses winding down Elise’s neck. She’d still yet to understand why she had the tattoo in the first place.

Clara managed to cover it up with some heavy concealer.

The two women stepped out of the TARDIS.

“Might be a little bit much, but what do you reckon, Doctor?” Clara asked. She stopped when she saw him. Robin Hood.

“By all the saints. Are there any more in there?” Robin Hood asked.

The Doctor noticed how Robin’s eyes lingered on Elise and he moved slightly in front of her.

Clara patted the Doctor’s chest in disbelief. “Is that…?” Clara asked.

“No,” the Doctor told her.

“Oh, my God. Oh, my God! It is, isn't it? You found him. You actually found Robin Hood.”

“That is not Robin Hood.”

“Well then, who, sir, is about to relieve you of your magic box?” Robin asked, pulling out his long sword.

Elise nearly rushed forward, but the Doctor pushed her back. He stepped onto the bridge, facing Robin. “Nobody, sir. Not in this universe or the next.”

“Well then, draw your sword and prove your words.”

“I have no sword. I don't need a sword.” The Doctor opened his coat and twirled around to show Robin. “Because I am the Doctor.” Instead, he donned a gauntlet and pulled out a spoon. “And this is my spoon. En garde!”

They started sparring and Clara and Elise watched on in excitement.

The Doctor got the upper hand and hit Robin on the back of the neck with his spoon.

“You're amazing,” Clara praised the Doctor.

Even Elise had to admit the Doctor was rather dashing.

“I've had some experience. Richard the Lionheart. Cyrano de Bergerac. Errol Flynn. He had the most enormous…”

Clara cleared her throat, cutting off the inappropriate comment.

“…Ego.”

“Takes one to know one.”

Robin lunged forward and sliced a button off the Doctor’s coat. The Doctor held his arms out and Robin got ready to strike the killing blow. The Doctor dodged this attack and spun around so he and Robin were back to back. He bumped Robin and Robin fell into the river below.

“Doctor!” Clara said, rushing to his side.

The Doctor polished his spoon on his coat. “Like I said. My box.”

“Doctor?”

Robin was nowhere to be seen in the water below. He popped up behind the Doctor and pushed him into the water.

Clara and Robin laughed.

Elise rolled her eyes and waded into the water. She helped the Doctor up and asked, “Are you okay?”

“More of a bruised ego than anything.”

“I’ll fix your coat later.”

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Robin led them to a small encampment. “Let me introduce you to my men. This is Will Scarlet. He is a cheeky rogue with a good sword arm and a slippery tongue.”

“My ladies…”

Clara giggled and looked at Elise, who had no reaction.

To this day, the only man to ever make Elise blush was the man in the café after they met Clara the second time.

The Doctor pulled out some of his hair as he bowed and scanned it with his sonic screwdriver.

Will cried out and grabbed at his head. “What do you want with my hair?”

“Well, it's realistic, I'll give you that,” the Doctor told him.

“And this is Friar Tuck. Aptly named for the amount of grub he tucks into,” Robin introduced.

“You skinny blaggard.”

The men around them laughed.

Friar Tuck stepped forward and nearly fell.

The Doctor was on the ground behind him.

“What are you doing?” Tuck asked him.

The Doctor stood up, holding one of his sandals. “This isn't a real sandal.”

“Yes, it is.”

The Doctor sniffed the sandal. “Oh. Yes, it is.”

Robin turned to introduce another one of his men. “This, er, is Alan-a-Dale. He's a master of the lute, whose music brightens up these dark days.”

“Stranger you are welcome here, in Sherwood's bonny glade,” Alan sang. He suddenly cried out as the Doctor stuck him with a needle.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry. Blood analysis. Oh. All those diseases. If you were real, you'd be dead in six months,” the Doctor told him.

“I am real,” Alan insisted.

“Bye.”

The last of Robin’s men was huge.

“And this is John Little. Called Little John. He's my loyal companion in many an adventure.”

The large man stepped aside and a smaller man jumped out at them. The men laughed.

“Works every time,” Will said.

“Oh, I cannot believe this. You, you really are Robin Hood and his Merry Men!” Clara giggled.

“Aye! That is an apt description. What say you, lads?” Robin asked.

His men laughed in response. “Stop laughing. Why are you always doing that? Are you all simple or something?”

Elise was beginning to become annoyed as well, while Clara looked to be enjoying herself.

The Doctor picked up a goblet and poured out the liquid before walking up to Robin. “I’m going to need a sample.”

“Of what?” Robin asked.

Clara quickly pulled the Doctor away from them. “What are you doing?”

“Well, they're not holograms, that much is obvious. Could be a theme park from the future. Or we might be inside a miniscope,” the Doctor told her.

“Oh, shut up.”

“A miniscope. Yes, of course. Why not?”

The Doctor ran over to the encampment, leaving Clara and Elise.

Robin walked to them. “Your friend seems not quite of the real world,” Robin observed.

“No. No, he's not really. Not most of the time.” Clara looked at Robin. “Dark days?”

“My lady?”

“You said that these were dark days. What did you mean?”

“King Richard is away on crusade, my lady. His tyrant of a brother rules instead,” Will explained.

“And the Sheriff. Cos there is a sheriff, right?”

“Aye. It is indeed this jackal of the princes who seeks to oppress us forever more,” Alan said.

“Or six months in your case,” the Doctor quipped.

Robin spoke in a soft voice. “It is a shame to dwell on murky thoughts when there is such beauty here,” Robin said.

Elise felt like she was intruding, so she simply squeezed Clara’s hand and joined her father instead. She glanced back at Clara and Robin talking softly with each other and she felt a pang in her hearts.

The Doctor saw the look on Elise’s face and walked over to Robin. “What time is it, Mister Hood?”

“Somewhat after noon.”

“No, no. Time of year? What season?”

“Oh, Dame Autumn has draped her mellow skirts about the forest, Doctor. The time of mists and harvest approaches.”

Elise frowned. That didn’t seem right.

“Yeah, yeah. All very poetic. But it's very green hereabouts, though, isn't it? Like I said, very sunny.”

“So?” Clara asked.

“Have you been to Nottingham?”

“Climate change?”

“It's 1190.”

“You must excuse me. The Sheriff has issued a proclamation and tomorrow there is to be a contest to find the best archer in the land. And the bounty, it's an arrow made of pure gold,” Robin said.

“No! Don't, don't go. It's a trap,” Clara begged him.

“Well, of course it is! But a contest to find the best archer in the land? There is no contest.”

The men laughed.

“Right, that isn't even funny. That was bantering. I am totally against bantering,” the Doctor snapped.

“How can you be so sure he is not the real thing?” Clara asked.

“Because he can't be.”

“When did you stop believing in everything?”

“When did you start believing in impossible heroes?”

“Don't you know? In a way, it's rather sweet.” Clara joined Robin and his men, while Elise stood next to him.

He looked into her green eyes and saw…was it hope? He was going to show her he could be the Doctor again. That he could be the heroic man she knew him to be.

#Twelfth Doctor #twelfth doctor imagine #twelfth doctor fanfiction #doctor who #doctor who imagine #Doctor Who fanfiction #clara oswald #clara oswald imagine #the littlest timelord #the littlest timelord: the new doctor #robots of sherwood

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hngrylikethewoolf · 3 years

Text

London Calling || Errigan

IN WHICH...Errol and Ratigan have a discussion in the middle of a crowded London café.

TRIGGER WARNINGS: None that I can think of

Backdated: July 25, 2021

@professorofcrimeratigan

ERROL:

Errol was a werewolf.

No, the irony of that statement was not lost on him.

The first thing he'd done upon being bitten and treated was limp his way back to his hotel, blood burning in his veins, a fever hanging over him, and passing out in the rented room, clunky gauze and bandages catching the blood that sluggishly seeped from the closing wounds. He had been explicit when they worked on him, told them to wear proper gear, didn't care that he wasn't their boss, he took the pitch of Ratigan's voice and used it to his sluggish, half-advantage. He burned everything when he awoke, a new sense of being shifting around in his chest, a secondary something there that hadn't been before.

He had been debriefed about Shifters, knew of them from his work overseas and from a former Army Ranger he'd befriended that had been bitten by a lone wolf during a mission, at least a decade ago now, maybe more. They still kept in contact, and he was the first person Errol had called, the beast shifting around in his chest, testing out the cage. They needed to learn how to work together while he figured out his next steps.

The conversation he had with his friend helped, if anything, to calm the tidal wave of emotions he could feel tugging at him. The wolf was with him now. Panicking about it would make the transition all that more difficult.

Errol had also just been shot, had a man digging around in the meat of his thigh to close an artery that would have killed him if not for the help of the bite. It was still there, still healing, but it wasn't deadly. He deserved a few days of recuperation, to wrap his head around it all.

Pedram Ratigan was a werewolf.

Somehow that information didn't surprise him as much as it should. It had saved his life, after all. The other information he had received that day was telling, but it made no difference to him at this moment. Pieces of things he'd observed, things that now made more sense, he would keep tucked away. Could examine later, once he had a more firm grasp on his wolf and the place they now had in the world.

Errol had information to hand over, after all. He had no time to wonder, though he wanted to. He'd barely scratched the surface of who Ratigan could potentially be. He would focus on what he knew, what they both were now, and go from there.

That started in a nondescript café at the heart of the city, surrounded by people in a way that created the perfect veil of anonymity. Errol had a feeling they would need it.

RATIGAN:

Clean up of the situation had been taken care of. Bodies disposed, blood mopped, evidence picked up. Had anyone entered the warehouse they would never have known of the violence that had taken place there.

The ambulance had been left elsewhere, also cleansed of any evidence linking back to the three people who had been inside it last.

One would think that was the worst part of it, the clean up. Having to make sure that nothing had been left behind for even the smallest chance of being caught. Ratigan had shared the same sentiment as soon as he realized he was now somewhere in the system. Back when he’d been nothing there had been no fear, no need to wipe his prints or panic when his blood had been left behind. There had been no way to find him, no place to follow his growing trail back to.

It had been a flaw in the system and Ratigan had used it on his campaign to the head of the table. Anyone within his network would have access to cleaners. (They had quickly become, without a doubt, the biggest source of income.)

But there were still loose threads to deal with— one of them being the sheriff.

Ratigan had returned to a safe house and contacted Fidget who had not done as he was told. The sheriff had walked free and was roaming the streets of London. All that work and now he was having to rely on word alone that he would be given what he wanted.

He met where the sheriff wanted but planned ahead— best not to leave anything to chance when he did not have to. He was already seated at a table when the sheriff arrived, a cup of tea sitting in front of him. His attention was on the crossword puzzle of the newspaper he was leaning over. It wasn’t until the other man was seated that he spoke.

“Fine choice, this place.” His tone was light and conversational. It matched the tables around them along with the clinking spoons against the sides of mugs, fingers striking keyboards, creaking furniture as someone shifted in their seat. “Do you have the information you promised me?”

ERROL:

The fact Ratigan was already there when Errol showed up wasn't surprising.

The sheriff took a second to reorient himself, eyes scanning the coffee shop as he unwound his scarf from his throat, considering all the exits and number of bodies in a matter of moments. All the noises and all the smells swirled around, heightened by the wolf. It was a tinge uncomfortable, having to adjust to it, but Errol barely let a flicker of it cross his face. A slight widening of the nostrils, a tilt to his head, but nothing more.

He still had a job to do though and, now, a debt to repay.

Errol sat casually, mindful of his leg, smiling like they were having a grand time, and nodded his head with a little laugh. "Mmm, aye. I do." An arm slung across the back of the chair beside him, and he shifted sideways, allowing himself to see the door in his peripheral vision. A gun sat, a heavy weight, just above his left hip. Where no one else but Ratigan could see; if he was looking--which he was, Errol already knew--then he would catch it. Gauze and bandaging wrapped around his thigh beneath his clothes, unnoticeable but a necessary addition until his leg entirely healed.

There were still people that were trying to kill the bastard, after all. And Errol never liked to leave anything to chance, especially when it came to someone's life, especially when it was someone that he knew.

At this close a proximity to the other man, the scent of his cologne was sharp in Errol's nose, both familiar and foreign. It was distinctly Ratigan, and it made the wolf perk up its head, interested for the first time all morning. The sheriff bit the inside of his cheek, tongue clicking against the roof of his mouth as the beast stretched, waking. He breathed in deep to calm himself but it just pulled the scent further into his lungs. It made the wolf whine, and Errol grit his teeth, acknowledging it with a barely-there shift in his seat, a ploy to get more comfortable.

See, they'd reached a bit of an understanding back in his hotel room, over these last three or so days. Errol knew he had him now and the wolf knew he was attached. They couldn't change it, could merely work around it, and they would. First, Errol just needed him to calm the fuck down about the person across from him. The pressure in his chest, now, was uncomfortable, a testing of bonds and an attempt to move closer. If Errol moved any closer, he'd be vaulting the table and sitting on the man.

Just another werewolf, perhaps? Or the insane, but possible, notion that Pedram had been the one to bite him?

Instead of saying any of that, Errol leaned down and pulled a folder from the old Army kit he'd slung to the floor upon arrival. He aligned it on the table, neat, straight corners, before pushing that and two others with it across the table. His smile turned crooked, almost amused.

"'S t' extra I told ye about. It's all on the drive, too, but I wrote t' access information down. Figure ye'd want proof 'fore I jus' gave ye a drive."

The wolf tested its bonds, found them to be solid, and Errol shifted in his seat again, ignoring the discomfort, focus never wavering from Ratigan's face.

RATIGAN:

He placed his pen down and leaned back in his chair, waiting. All of this was so tedious and annoying. He did not want to be there but of course there would have been such a great tantrum thrown had it not been him the information had been passed off to. At this point he knew that the sheriff did the things he did simply to spite Ratigan because, well, he must have nothing better to do being a police officer. It’s just what they did.

The looming subject of what had taken place in the last moments of their previous encounter was ever present but Ratigan didn’t care whatsoever. It did not concern him whether the sheriff was taking well to his new normal or whatever (no doubt ridiculous) questions were at the ready to be asked should he give some sort of sign of acknowledgement. He refused. Whatever the sheriff was looking for he would not find it.

“Thank you,” he said politely and even smiled. Finally. At least this massive headache will have been worth something in the end. Ratigan placed the files at the edge of the table. Seconds later the waitress passed by, picking them up. Neither acknowledged the other as she breezed by.

“Well, now that that’s out of the way, we should address the elephant in the room, shall we?” He reached for the cup of tea to take a sip. There was no rush in his movements, he was the picture of leisure. “I fully intend to return to Swynlake and continue my life there. You’ve proven yourself to be— puerile when it comes to some of your choices in how you go about things. I implore you, sheriff, to not continue this trend as far as your knowledge of me goes. You are only alive now because I allowed it. I can just as easily change my mind should you get the idea that I am someone you can ruin.”

He shrugged. “But then, where would the fun in that be? If you attempt to take away what is important to me then rest assured I shall do the same to you. The only difference being that I will be able to rebuild— the same cannot be said for you. Or your family.”

ERROL:

Ratigan was smiling. Wasn't that a terrifying thought, given the circumstances? It was a nice one, though. Errol couldn't help but glance toward it, a brow ticking upward just as the edge of his mouth curled, rueful.

It wasn't pleasant, but he thought it could be. Ratigan had a nice smile.

Errol dipped his head in acknowledgement, eyes following the waitress for a moment as she tucked the folders beneath an arm. The Irishman snorted, amused. Of course Ratigan had people here. Errol would have too, if he could. He settled in to listen instead, head tilting to the side in curiosity.

A bark of laughter escaped when Ratigan started threatening, a delighted little sound that curled around his eyes and lit up his smile. He knew the man was deadly serious, and something dark and dangerous and ugly flickered in the sheriff's gaze once his family was mentioned, but the amusement still clung to him, a shroud.

"Ah, luv, ye dunne 'ave tah worry. Ye might fink 'm stupid, but I ain't. 'Ve got no reason tah say shite. What hurts ye, hurts me. 'S cute ye fink I might, though. Threatin' a diff'rent man's family might nah've ended yer way, but I like ye." He leaned forward, wide, sharp smile on his face, studying Ratigan's own. "So 'm jus' gonna tell ye once. They're mine. Leave 'em be."

He doubted the man took him seriously, but he should. Errol saw in him much of what had driven himself, still did.

Ratigan was right about one thing, though. Errol was only alive because he'd allowed it, because he had needed the information Errol had. A moment later, he reached into the inner pocket of his coat, drawing out a flash drive. He tsked, tongue clicking against the backs of his front teeth as the wolf squirmed, pushing the drive close across the table. "That'd be t' rest. It's got t' information fer everyone 'at came tah t' extraction an' yer mutineers."

Errol grinned, sweet as pie. He had a copy of all the information.

RATIGAN:

He sighed, an eyebrow raising because no, he did not think this man was stupid, he knew this man was stupid. The evidence stacked against him was substantial and nothing he said would prove otherwise.

The laughter almost made him want to do something more to prove his point, that nothing about this was funny or amusing or some sort of game the sheriff seemed to believe the world was.

“Please, sheriff, no pet names. We are in public and I think we are past the need to make me blush.” And perhaps that may have sounded different to the average eavesdropper but here it was another threat. This, above all else, irked Ratigan more than anything else— it was as if the man thought there was some sort of rapport between them, like he was allowed to address him as anything other than his name. Even the wolf recoiled against it, his emotions so heavy that it was pulled away from the excitement of the newcomer in order to protect what was important above all else.

He gave a nod of understanding, as if he understood the concept of family on a personal level instead of just an observational one. “I do think that’s rather the point. They’re your family, and if you want them off the table then I suggest you do not partake in this game.”

Ratigan reached for the flashdrive, placing it in his own pocket.

“I will give you the opportunity to leave it be. This is no longer your concern, and to be honest it never was. If I were you, I would forget any of this has happened and return to your life as it was.” His fingers laced together, elbows resting on the arms of the chair. “This is more than I would ever give someone of your—” His eyes flickered over the man, disgust coming and going over his expression but never leaving his voice, “—profession. Do not be ungrateful.”

ERROL:

Ratigan sighed and raised a brow and Errol followed the movement, mirroring it with one of his own. He'd leaned back in his chair, one leg crossed across the other at the knee, arm slack across the back of the chair beside him, a picture of repose.

See, what no one else understood, Ratigan included, was that Errol had no reason to be afraid of him, not personally. Yes, he threatened his family, and the sheriff believed him when he said that he'd harm them if he thought it necessary, but Errol never had any intention of making it so. He knew the professor thought he was stupid, he claimed he did.

But, then, that begged the question of why he had been used in the first place. Errol almost wanted to ask, except he knew it would do him no good.

He focused on the droll looking the other man gave him when he asked not to be called by a pet name, that they were 'past the need to make him blush.' A few choice thoughts skittered across his mind, then, each of them worse than the last. Mirth colored his eyes for a second before it disappeared. As he had before, Errol dipped his head in a nod of acknowledgement.

"Noted, sir." There, should stroke his ego well enough. He dutifully kept away from the always-endearing moniker of "professor." While that was equally as neutral territory, it gave something away. The former did not. If he could hedge a bet, however, Ratigan wouldn't like that one, either.

Refraining from saying anything smart or rolling his eyes at the heavy-handed threat, Errol reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out his wallet and a pocket knife, the latter of which he showed to the other man before setting it on the table, engraving up. He continued to exude nonchalance as he thumbed through a few bills, the Elvira winking up at him from the table.

Perhaps such threats worked on his underlings, but Errol had dealt with people at Ratigan's caliber, and worse, for two decades. Granted, they were far less intelligent, but they were no less driven or full of themselves.

This wasn't a game, even if Ratigan thought he believed it to be.

The quip about his profession did earn a grin and another nod. He understood. Hell, Errol often felt the same. It was why he'd clawed his way to the top in such a short time. If anyone could call a decade or so short. He didn't like being forced to take orders, orders he would disobey or orders that might not be entirely ethical in the sense of the job (his own personal ethics notwithstanding) so it'd made sense to become what he had.

If you could become the head, you didn't have to cut yourself off at the neck. Had people who could protect you if someone tried.

Cocking his head to the side, Errol's eyes assessed Ratigan's face, his voice suddenly, deathly serious. "It was never a game. What I did 'fore all o' this...ye say anyfin' an' yer dead. 'S t' same fing 'ere, more or less."

He flicked the pocket knife toward the other man, then, and nodded at it.

"'Ere's yer promise. Type 'at intah t' military database an' ye get yerself a bit o' an easier access tah me redacted files."

RATIGAN:

Ratigan’s temper was running thin. This man had no idea what he was talking about— he had only had eyes on this for so long. Ratigan had been at this for years. This was not even a scratch at the surface, it was barely a brush of a finger against it. There was nothing that could be said here that would be able to convince Ratigan that this man, the same one who had gone into a situation with no back up, no plan, and every intention of dying with the way he had been trying to fight his way out of the corner he had basically walked himself into and sat there, waiting to see what would happen and then continued to press his back against the walls as he was attacked, knew what he was talking about.

He gave the knife a brief glance as that was all it was good for.

“That’s very generous of you, sheriff, but if you think that I don’t already know everything that the government has on you then I think that says enough about your role here.”

It had taken longer than Ratigan had been happy with, but he had been able to find the files the sheriff thought were protected. The government may have had the best in the business, recruiting those from criminal backgrounds in order to fight back against those wanting their information, but Ratigan had better.

All that to say, Ratigan was not very impressed by what he had seen. Again, his dog’s record outshone him. If anything, it irked Ratigan all the more. Police were bad but the military was worse, in his opinion.

“Enough of— whatever this was supposed to be.” He gestured to the knife with a flippant hand, eyes widening briefly with perfectly placed annoyance. “What is it that you want?”

Because surely he must have wanted something. Everyone did. Otherwise he would not have shown up. (Even if it was something as simple as to sate his naïve curiosity.)

ERROL:

Errol's grin was triumphant this time, self-satisfaction evident. He'd managed to get the confirmation he wanted. It did not surprise him. As he had quickly started to learn, Ratigan was well-prepared for everything. He didn't take things at face value, yet he tried to make it seem like he did. He was contradictory yet made it seem like all his ducks were in a row.

It was fascinating and strange and something that Errol wanted to poke and prod at and toe the line of until he found it all out, even now. Saddled with a new burden and threatened, nearly killed. He had been truthful before when he said he liked the other man. For all his prickly, sharp outer edges, Errol did like him.

A small sigh escaped and Errol tapped his knuckles against the tabletop, chewing on his lip, trying to think of a way to get the other man to understand. He didn't know if he ever could, to explain why the knife was important. Why it meant something, the one sliver of a show of loyalty, of acknowledgement that he could give.

Maybe it was playing with fire, but Errol had never minded being burned. With the way things were shaping up now, he was very aware of the fact he couldn't stay in the job he was in, had already begun to spin the yarn that would allow him to leave it behind. It had been something he had been considering but this last nail had formed his coffin, driving the point home.

Errol heard the annoyance and flicked his gaze up to Ratigan's face, brows lifting toward his hairline, a silent question. Does this bug you so much, just having a conversation?

Even if the conversation was layered, laced with threat and code and whatever other secrecy he could pack in then bubble wrap it from the outside world, it was still, to Errol at least, a decent one. He had always been comfortable in hostile situations, though.

He didn't turn his smile charming, like he would with anyone else. Didn't try to coat his words with honeyed pleasantries or spin a yarn. No, Ratigan was too direct, so Errol needed to be, too.

"Wanted tah talk tah ye. Wasna lyin' when I said I liked ye, before." Threats and all, actually, but that was neither here nor there, and something Errol could keep tucked very, very far away. "An' if ye fink I was givin' information about yer life tah someone else, ye woulda been wrong. 'S why I insisted, 'cause 'S important." To me, to you, whomever you want to believe. "Fer what 'S worth, anyway."

He still hadn't figured out how to explain the knife. It sat in the middle of the table, heavy. Errol wasn't going to take it back now, though. He knew Ratigan didn't think he was smart. Knew he believed he had gone into that alleyway and warehouse without a plan, backup, or a care. Except he had been wrong. Though he hadn't been one hundred percent certain, Errol had known the person he needed the information would have kept track of him, possibly would have followed him, and he had been right.

Sometimes he forgot he wasn't a soldier anymore, that he couldn't just waltz into a hostile zone and expect to make it out mostly alive because people had his six. He wasn't that man, not entirely, not anymore, but he could also never make it go away. He'd done it for too long.

"An' I wanted tah know how long ye've dealt wif --" he paused, wasn't going to say it. Errol was very aware of the secret they were both hiding now, what it did to people. But he was curious about the way the wolf was acting, curious to know if it was because Ratigan was another wolf or because they somehow knew. "I figure ye ain't gonna say anyfin', ain't gonna 'elp, an' I ain't askin'. Jus' that. No details, I don't wanna know how it 'appened or why or where, jus' that."

Errol could say more, could mention wolfsbane or ask about shifts, but he knew no answers would come. Yet, this asking, it was easier, somehow. It wasn't curiosity (though it almost certainly was, he'd already shown more than enough of his hand, but that had been a calculated risk). His body language was calm, nothing defensive about it, all of himself open, head tilting to show neck, even, but a stare that was unwavering.

RATIGAN:

Curiosity it was then.

Well, wasn’t that rather disappointing? Unsurprising, but with the display he had given so far Ratigan had thought that maybe— but no. He was just like all the rest.

And just like all the rest, he was going to try to appeal to what humanity he may have thought was within Ratigan. Perhaps he thought this because he had seen Ratigan as the university professor and the volunteer theater director and the everyday, normal citizen who lived in Swynlake. That was only a part that he played, the cover he had been giving the most time to. (There were countless others, but this was the one he lived most every day dedicated to.) Whoever the sheriff deemed to like was not real, only a costume he wore to fit in among the rest of them. He wanted to speak to him as if he was still that man, he could see it in his body language, showing Ratigan his vulnerability in the hopes he would be rewarded with the same.

The problem with this approach was that Ratigan did not have any humanity left to communicate with. There was no empathy or sympathy or emotion that could be tugged upon to be given any sort of opening. All of that had been purged from his person until he had become what the family had needed him to be. A weapon— unperfect but efficient. His brain, built to learn quickly and at the whole, had taken this in after it had been taught what would happen should it disobey and there the lessons had stayed through the years as it had led to his survival thus far.

Everyone always wanted something, and this man thought he was owed the answer to a personal question. Simple as it was, as easy as Ratigan could have lied, he didn’t want to put in the effort of it. As much as this man may have been truthful in his word to keep from asking any more questions Ratigan knew better. If he was curious enough to ask this question, one that had an inherent selfish wish behind it, then an answer may embolden him to ask another, may lead him to believe that Ratigan wanted to converse. He did not. He did not want this man to know anything about himself that could potentially help him in the future nor did he care to hear about whatever it was the sheriff wanted to say. People had a tendency to spit out the things they wanted people to listen to instead of what Ratigan wanted to hear. It was easier to find that information elsewhere so that he did not have to endure the torture of conversation.

“That is worth nothing to me.” He didn’t care for favors or pity or the like and that is what that seemed the sheriff was presenting, acting as if Ratigan should be so flattered at a gift like that. He didn’t need it. Even if the sheriff had been feeding information neither Ratigan or the network needed the help of someone like him. “And you would be correct. I promised you your life and you have it. You can expect nothing more from me— you may consider it a birthday gift.”

He lifted his cup of tea to his mouth to drain the remainder of it. The ceramic touched back down against the table top before he pushed his chair back from the table, turning in it as he prepared to stand. “Thank you for wasting my time, sheriff, as always.”

Ratigan smiled and did stand then, buttoning his suit’s jacket. Before he left he reached over to pick his pen back up but left the newspaper behind, the crossword finished. True to his word, he offered nothing more to the sheriff and left the cafe. There was still work to be done.

#ch: Ratigan #p: london calling #r: machiavel #r: machiavellian #//part 2 of our Fun Werewolf Plot #//thanks again to Sid who is the most amazing and I am very grateful that we got to do this!!#//Ratigan Being a Jerk on Errol's Birthday is my alternate title for this and tbh I love it #//also errol is still learning how to Be a Wolf okay so it's gonna take him A While give him some time he'll get there

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missjosie27 · 4 years

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Hey, guys!

So I’ve been working on a trade with my good pal @aleksia-aries-hogwartsmystery aka @thereluctantherosrose. She’s an amazing person and she drew a little gift for me this past week.

Here is my gift in return! A little fic featuring her MC, Barnaby, and plenty of angst xD

Aleksia Aries was not one who usually let life get her down. The beginning of the school year brought many challenges- the feud between the Haywood sisters, Merula’s increased anger (if such a thing were possible for the Slytherin girl) and desire for revenge, Charlie’s distance, not to mention a brand new curse that petrified people dead in their tracks. No, after years of experience in breaking the Cursed Vaults and the constant back and forth that usually occurred in her friend group, she could handle most things as long as she kept her nose to the grindstone and kept an upbeat attitude. At 5′3 with a curvaceous figure and pretty features, her personality and strength more than made up for lack of size.

Indeed, very few things could put the Gryffindor sixth year into a state. Which is what made breakfast all the more troubling.

It started out normally enough. Though Aleksia and Rowan were girls they usually liked to sit among the boys at breakfast as it provided a great deal of entertainment. Today proved to be no different as Ben was studying defensive curses fervently while sipping his proclaimed newfound love for black coffee. Jae was idly playing with his porridge while counting his inventory stock for the day.

“How’s business today?” Aleksia grinned at him as she sat down at the table.

“Oh you know, the usual,” came the vague reply, not uncharacteristic for the Asian boy. “Just crunching the numbers.”

“You know, if you cared the same way about your marks as you do with your smuggling perhaps you’d have received more than just four O.W.L.’s last year.”

“My future lies outside the realm of academic achievement.”

He gave a wink and went back to counting his numbers when the sound of wings flapping caused the table to look up.

“Ah, the morning post is here,” Rowan said with satisfaction. Evidently, Ben was unaware of this fact as he whipped his wand as though a threat were bearing down on him from above.

“Relax, Ben,” Rowan said with a raised eyebrow. “There’s no one trying to kill Aleksia at the present moment.”

“You never know that,” came the stern reply, so characteristic of the ‘new Ben’.

“Pretty sure you need to ease up on the coffee there mate,” Charlie laughed. “Stuff has you jumpier than a bowtruckle. Ah...yes thank you mum.”

He caught a parcel from Errol, the Weasley Family owl, which was evidently some sort of fudge that the illustrious Mrs. Weasley had baked.

“One can never be too prepared,” Ben said, burying his head back in the book.

Aleksia rolled her eyes at her so called ‘protector’. Her long time friend’s insistence on shadowing her everywhere she went was irritating to say the least. The once timid, shy boy had seemingly forgotten that it was she that frequently protected him not to mention having faced monumental danger time and time again in breaking the curses. How quickly one forgot. Even so, she still considered him a friend and let most of his intrusive proclamations go.

All of a sudden, a letter dropped in front of her which was rather unexpected. She had written to her mother two days ago and wasn’t due for a reply for another day at least. She then saw that the handwriting on the front was not that of her mum but of her father.

Her stomach dropped like an anchor in the sea as she reluctantly took the letter and stroked her snowy owl, Pepper, allowing her to drink from her goblet. Willing herself not to tremble, she lid open the envelope and withdrew its contents. What she read was possibly the most frightening thing she could have imagined.

Daughter,

I am writing this to you in relation to your coming of age. Though our interactions are sparse I am still your father and therefore I play a role in your future whether you care to acknowledge that fact or not.

You are sixteen years of age and approaching the age of adulthood in our world. Therefore, it is high time that you look towards the most important aspect of the society in which we live: furthering the family line. I have reached out to several families of noble stock and many have expressed interest in a possible match. In particular Lady Equestria Rowle has a son your age and has arranged for you two to meet in order to get better acquainted. The marriage itself will occur shortly afterwards.

Do NOT attempt to defy me, daughter. It is the destiny of every pure blood witch and wizard to keep the line free from the rotten influences unworthy to wield magic. In order to ensure your compliance, I am sending your cousin Henry to fetch you and I expect that you will not give him trouble.

Regards,

Your Father

Aleksia felt her body go numb as she stared out into space, a concoction of rage and disbelief surging through her. How...how could he do this to her? William Aries was a hard, stern, prejudiced man and had injured her and her mother multiple times over. But never before had this sort of control been attempted on her person. Before, he was a distant figure, hard to ignore to be sure, but far away enough in mind to live life without much interference.

That time was seemingly over. And the proof of her father’s seriousness was in her cousin. Henry was just as abusive, if not more so than William and there was no doubt Durmstrang had strengthened his love for all things dark and cruel.

Fear was unbecoming of a Gryffindor, but even the bravest carried fears. For Aleksia, it was the shadows of her father’s family.

Suddenly feeling extremely nauseous, she rose from the table and left abruptly.

“I have to go.”

She barely registered the looks on her friend’s faces as she stormed out of the Great Hall, nor the concerned expression on a large, Slytherin male who’s eyes followed her path. She didn’t even notice when she accidentally passed through one of the ghosts while searching for one of the private closets that Hogwarts seemed to specialize in having. The shivers the imprint of an undead person could impart paled in comparison to fear of being forced to marry a person her father deemed suitable for her.

In the darkness, tears fell silently onto the ground.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Aleksia remained subdued for the entirety of the day. Her friends noticed but no one commented, at least not at first. Even her longtime rival, Merula seemed a bit perturbed that their usual banter was absent during potions class. But it was who Penny looked especially worried, especially when the duck face Tonks made at her failed to elicit a chuckle. She cornered her after Herbology.

“Aleksia, is everything, okay?”

Forcing a smile, the young Gryffindor tried to put on a convincing face.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine, Penny. I’m just a bit distracted today. No big deal.”

The blonde remained unconvinced, however.

“I’ve known you for six years. And there’s not a day I can remember where you didn’t at least say hi to me in Herbology. There’s something up, I know it.”

“She’s right you know,” Rowan cut in, her arms clutching books but with the same worry etched on her features. “I haven’t seen you this upset since your first year. And if it’s anything to with-”

“It’s not Jacob,” Aleksia blurted out and there was no denying the sincerity in her tone.

Rowan swallowed. The two being best friends, there was only one thing that could instill such fear and loathing that she knew of.

“You don’t mean…”

“That’s exactly who I mean!” the young female Gryffindor couldn’t help but reveal. “My father is hell bent on marrying me off to some bloody tosser that I don’t even know against my will and I have no say in it whatsoever!”

The outburst was sudden but not expected as Rowan gave a fearful gasp and Penny’s eyes widened.

“Aleksia, I thought you and your father were estranged. You told me you barely talked.”

The black haired girl sighed angrily.

“You’re right. But he still has his ways of making his presence known. He still sends letters and has threatened more than once to pull me out of Hogwarts if I didn’t comply with what he wanted. Thankfully mum and Dumbledore have prevented that from happening but it’s different this time.”

“Why?”

“Because he’s sending my cousin Henry after me.”

Rowan’s face became quite ashen. As the resident best friend of the Hogwarts curse breaker she knew quite well the stories of her infamous cousin and his penchant for cruelty.

“We’ll think of something. Let’s come up with a plan. There’s no way we’re going to let your dad or cousin do this to you.”

“It’s essentially kidnapping,” Penny agreed. “And I’m with Rowan. We can prevent this from happening and we will.”

A small smile returned to Aleksia’s pretty features but the anxiety in her eyes did not abate. Contrary to her usual social butterfly personality, this was

“Thanks, guys. But I need to think this over alone for a while. I’ll come back upstairs to the common room and meet you there, okay Rowan?”

Both girls could sense she needed private time and nodded their heads respectfully. Penny gave her a big hug in the meantime, reminding her that if she needed anything to not hesitate. For her part, Aleksia made her way over to the courtyard to gather her thoughts.

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The weather, though chilly, was also sunny, a rarity for Scotland this time of year and it allowed Aleksia to try and calm her nerves as her mood teeter tottered from angry to one of immense fear. Though she had told Rowan and a few others about Henry, no one besides her could know what he was truly capable of. Horrid flashbacks surged through her mind as painful memories of being kicked, bit, slapped, and knocked down overwhelmed her senses. Aleksia was the brave and bold Gryffindor that never backed down from anything but if there were two people in this world that could instill fear in her heart and one of them was on the way.

There was a second aspect to this that remained unspoken. Though not mentioned specifically in the letter from her father, the implication and the name ‘Equestria Rowle’ rang enough of a bell. She was married to Thorfinn Rowle, a suspected Death Eater that was never formally charged with any crime, but the Gryffindor teen was well acquainted with that circle and the fact they had a son in her year, Mortimer. Aleksia didn’t interact with him much but Barnaby’s eyes often darkened when his name came up, something not easily achieved with the happy go lucky Slytherin.

Aleksia sat down and smoothed her skirt on the edge of the fountain, mentally slapping herself. How could she have forgotten Barnaby in all of this? He was also familiar with that life given his own parents were Death Eaters. Would he know of a solution? Was he not owed an explanation? She hadn’t spoken a word to him all day and he was probably concerned maybe even hurt because of it. But it also wasn’t a coincidence that Mortimer was giving her sly looks in potions and that only added to the tension.

Burying her head temporarily in her hands, she was at a loss at how to figure this out. What was she to do? How was she supposed to tell her current boyfriend? Given that her father was still technically a legal guardian, could Dumbledore step in as he had before?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar tone, one that simultaneously brought fear and rage in her heart.

“My, my you’re predictable,” spoke the smarmy, sarcastic voice of her cousin. “Finding you was easier than I expected.”

Standing across from her, was a tall teenage boy with slightly tousled blond hair, blue eyes, and a permanent smirk plastered across his features. He wore a dark trench coat and leather boots alongside a holster that contained his wand. Though his face was alight with energy, it was not the positive kind as his cold, sea eyes glinted with a maliciousness Aleksia was all too familiar with.

“What...why...how are you here so quickly?” she demanded, rising from the edge of the fountain.

“It was a simple matter of asking the headmaster for a favor,” Henry shrugged lazily. “Your father knows him, you see, and they share certain values. Values that are also prized at Durmstrang.” He turned his head and looked up at Gryffindor Tower. “A shame that such traits aren’t shared at Hogwarts.”

“Hogwarts is a better place with one less bigot inside its walls,” Aleksia shot back.

He turned back towards his cousin and gave another smirk.

“Simple retort from a simple, naive girl. Hogwarts couldn’t teach you proper wizarding pride so now, your father will. You had best take a good, long glance at this place, dear cousin. Because you won’t be coming back any time soon.”

“You can tell ‘father’ to stick it up his arse. I’m not going anywhere, least of all into an arranged marriage.”

This did not deter Henry in the slightest. Though his hand was placed on the holster, he made no move to take out his wand and began moving towards Aleksia with the same cruel smile still on his face.

“You don’t want to fight me, dear cousin. The fact of the matter is uncle wants this done quickly and I have little time to get into a war of words with you. And given past circumstances, I think you’ll remember how this usually goes.”

Aleksia didn’t have to ask what that comment meant. As children, Henry delighted in torturing her and causing fights, which he usually won.

“Come with me without delay and without fuss, Aleksia,” he told her, stopping three feet in front of her. “And I promise I won’t hurt you...much.”

It was not a threat, it was a promise. One that the blond fully intended to carry out. Being only 5’3 there was no way to outrun him. Her back against the metaphorical wall, there were only two realistic choices for Aleksia and surrendering to her sadistic cousin was out of the question. Therefore, she took a cue from Mad Eye Moody. Quick as a flash, she drew her wand and threw a blasting hex that caught Henry off guard, sending him crashing back twenty feet and onto his back.

He was up quickly, the smirk no longer there, replaced by a vicious snarl.

“So you choose the hard way,” he spoke with quiet rage. “That’s fine, I’ve been looking for an excuse to try out a few new spells anyway. Who better than my favorite punching bag?”

A half insane look appeared in his sea blue eyes as he yelled out.

“Debilito!”

A white jet of light struck Aleksia in the leg and immediately the area became so weak, it became difficult to stand.

“Neat little trick I picked up at school,” Henry boasted. “Can rob your opponent of most of their stamina and strength. It’ll make this that much easier.”

“You never know when to shut up do you?” the Gryffindor shot back. “Petrificus Totalus!”

The purple spell missed and just as quickly Henry was summoning another curse, this time a sickly, orange color and silent. Aleksia didn’t even want to know what it was. Henry always had an affinity for the Dark Arts and clearly Durmstrang furthered that interest and ambition. Nevertheless, she was able to roll out of the way despite the weakness in her leg and fire off a response.

“Stuepfy!”

Henry blocked it and rushed forward.

“Obtusiore Nouacula!”

“Protego!”

The deadly curse held the force of a hot, blunt knife, throwing Aleksia backwards. She briefly saw a streak of purple flame and it cut into her side but avoided the large majority of its damage. However, she barely had time to recover as Henry kept sending spell after spell against her shield.

“You know,” he called out to her. “It really is pitiful you became the black sheep of the family. A noble line of wizards sullied by your association with blood traitors, mudbloods, and all the rest of the scum that plagues our world. Your affinity for them has made you weak...and uncle won’t stand for it a second longer.”

She tried to ignore his taunts and focus on Mad Eye’s training of constant vigilance and always maintaining a proper stance. She tried to focus on what Barnaby had taught her about mixing her spell arsenal and not becoming too predictable. Even so, she couldn’t resist lashing out against the person who made her life hell during their youth.

“Fuck you! I don’t need your approval for who I am and what I believe nor do I have to look down on other people to feel good about myself. If that’s what it takes to be a part of the ‘family’...”

She reinforced her shield while digging into her stance

“...then I was never part of it in the first place. You don’t have the power to make me do anything, especially marrying that ghastly Slytherin.”

“Oh, but I can,” Henry grinned evilly. “Because now I do have that happy power. Consider this an early wedding present, and my personal swansong to you, Aleksia!”

He pointed his wand directly at her forehead and shouted out ‘Imperio!”

The spell shattered her shield into a million pieces and hit its target without fail. Immediately, a gentleness washed over Aleksia’s mind, feeling as though she were drifting on a fluffy, cloud of some sort, all cares washed away.

Come with me, a familiar voice spoke to her from somewhere far away, its tone delightful and reasonable. You’re going to be married and further our family’s heritage. This is the life of every pure-blood worth their magic. It will be the easiest thing you’ve ever done.

She didn’t bother to try and argue, merely nodding in reply.

Now let us go back to England. Your father awaits us. He is eagerly awaiting your arrival

Aleksia’s body began to follow the order but her mind suddenly began to fight back, knowing full well what awaited her if she followed the direction.

Yes, cousin. You must. Come with me.

She fought harder this time as the gentle, fluffy feeling began to evaporate.

I said no

You don’t have a choice

I won’t do it

You will do it. Take my hand now or else

“I said...I WON’T GO!!” Aleksia screamed. Suddenly, the curse was gone and she raised her wand at the unsuspecting Henry.

“Meteolo!” she bellowed.

Just like that a violent hail and snow storm began pelting Henry relentlessly, a powerful wind throwing him like a rag doll into the air and back onto the cold, hard ground. But Aleksia didn’t stop there, she levitated his body into the air and slammed it against the wall with a sickening crack.

Running towards her tormentor, the Gryffindor teen only saw red as she began to relentlessly kick and punch every square inch of her cousin’s body, barely registering his broken nose or his bleeding forehead.

It was for every fight…

Every tormentous incident…

All of the damage and suffering she had endured under his hand.

The descent into raw fury and revenge knew no bounds as her fists became runaway trains with no end in sight to their carnage. They may not have stopped at all until once again, intervention saved Aleksia from a worse outcome.

Strong but soft hands lifted her up and away from Henry’s body. The scent of fresh laundry and sandalwood filled the nostrils.

“Aleksia don’t,” came the deep, gentle tone of Barnaby Lee.

Red vision was replaced by reality as her heart rate began to slow and her proper senses returned. She stopped struggling.

“Barnaby?”

“I know you pain you’re feeling and I know it feels good. But you’re better than that. He’s not worth it.”

Only the gentle words of her equally gentle yet equally as powerful boyfriend could assuage the raw emotion that ran through her. Her conscience agreed with him, however a strong part of her wanted to continue the assault.

“I-he…” she sputtered. “Do you have any idea who he is? What he’s done?!”

“Yes,” came the answer. “And that’s exactly why you have to stop what you’re doing. You don’t want to become the thing you’re fighting against.”

Slowly he set Aleksia down but he did not let her go, instead forcing her to witness the damage she had wrought on her cousin. Henry’s face was bloody and bruised, with one eye already swelling shut. Coughing heavily, he stood up but staggered as he did so, breaking into another wicked smile.

“So this is the famous Barnaby Lee my cousin adores so much?” he slurred. “I’m disappointed. Someone of your stock should know a blood traitor when they see one.”

The burly Slytherin’s eyes darkened, but he did not reach for his wand.

“Leave,” he said quietly. “Leave or I’ll break you in half.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Henry was not a small man but he was no match in physical strength compared to Barnaby and he was certainly in no shape to take on a second powerful opponent in a duel. Slowly, the blond slinked away.

“This isn’t over,” he said, spitting blood on the ground and then he hurried off and out of sight.

After a few moments of silence, both teenagers let off silent sighs. Barnaby had still not let go of his girlfriend, but the truth is she didn’t want to.

“How’d you know I was here?” she asked softly.

“Penny told me you were alone in the courtyard. I was wondering what was bothering you all day and for a while I was worried I did something wrong….”

He looked back over to the spot where Henry last stood.

“...but I had no idea it was that bad.”

“You-you couldn’t have known it’s not your fault,” Aleksia told him as she turned and buried herself into his chest. “I-I’m sorry I lost control I just…”

“I get it,” Barnaby told her kindly. “You know I do. I may not be the smartest bloke around, but I know enough that you’re too kind and caring to behave like him. I don’t want that to happen. For you to turn into…”

He trailed off and she understood immediately. They both did. Two survivors of immense trauma that lived daily with the repercussions of such injuries trying to move forward in the best way they could. As the son of a father who also attempted to control him, the sixth year Slytherin carried an empathy unmatched by anyone.

“Promise me,” Barnaby almost begged of her.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” Aleksia replied, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Just promise me as well.”

“We’ll never be like them,” came the choked reply.

In the fading afternoon, the young couple simply cried together knowing that eventually they would both be okay…

And what it would take to get there.

#aleksia aries #gryffindor #trade #art trade #slytherin #barnaby lee #penny haywood #rowan khanna #jae kim #ben copper #charlie weasley #hogwarts mystery #fanfiction #hphm fanfiction

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